Left for Dead and Back Again
by mlove08
Summary: Zoey in abandoned by her team and found by Ellis. The two of them along with their friends have to find a way to survive the broken world. Is there a possibility for an escape?
1. Chapter 1

"_Where is she?"_

"_I don't know…I think she was thrown somewhere..."_

"_We have to go back for her."_

"_No! Do you see that horde? We have to escape while we still can!"_

"_But we're a team!" _

"_He's right, we can't go back. There's no way she's alive now. If we go back we will just get ourselves killed." _

"_But…"_

"_There's more coming. Let's go!" _

The voices were beginning to fade. She knew who they were, and could even faintly distinguish between them. Louis wanted to go back, Francis did not. Bill was the voice of reason. And here was Zoey, lying on the ground nearing death.

She almost didn't make it. She could feel the earth shaking, that was always a sign, but still the tank took her by surprise. It approached her first, she didn't even see it coming, and it threw her down. She felt the instant pain as she landed wrongly on her leg. She knew it had broken. But still the tank was not through with her. It knew she was still alive and ran back. She aimed her gun and fired. At first she was very rusty with the weapons, but now after all this time, it became second nature to her. But the tank was strong. It roared in her face, seemingly unaffected by the bullets piercing its thick skin. It picked her up once again and threw her, harder, farther.

She landed in grass; it cushioned her fall a bit, but still she screamed in agony when she hit the ground. She must have broken something else, but she couldn't tell, there was too much pain. She could barely think, barely breathe, and still there was no time. There were so many infected in this area, they saw her fall and ran towards her, their eyes filled with fury.

She almost gave up, knowing there was not much hope. Every breath she inhaled felt like knives going into her lungs. Maybe it was the will power inside her. Maybe it was the fact that she had been fighting so long, she might as well keep going until the end. Whatever it was, she pulled out her pistol (she had dropped her submachine gun when she was thrown) and fired. She shot at all the ugly infected faces she could see, all the bodies kicking and punching at her. Things were starting to get blurry but still she fired. She wanted them all dead; either they died, or she did.

After a few moments of blind firing and reloading, she felt nothing more attacking. She could barely move, but still she tried. She turned her head, one way, then the other way, and saw…nothing. They were gone. But how? There were so many. She glanced around herself. She was lying in a pool of blood, no doubt her own, and she was surrounded by bodies. Somehow, she had killed them all. She was amazed, for a moment, at the fact that she had succeeded, and the fact that her skill was improving. But this only lasted for a moment; the adrenaline that had replaced the pain was gone, and she realized she was in the middle of nowhere, bleeding, dying. She had killed some of the infected, but there were more coming, as there always was.

_Maybe I'll just close my eyes,_ she thought to herself. _Maybe I'll already be dead by the time they show up._

With that thought, she did. She closed her eyes, and within moments she was out, floating in a peaceful, painless, darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to those who reviewed! Hope you like this next chapter! ****-mlove**

The brisk morning air cooled Ellis's sweaty face as he sliced the head off of yet another infected. Part of him wanted to stop and enjoy the sudden chill; the weight of his weapons slowed him down and generated so much heat. But he couldn't stop, there were more running towards him and he had to be ready. With a smirk, he held up the axe he found. It was old, but proved to be effective seeing as tons of dead bodies lay at his feet by his hand.

"Come get me you sons-a-bitches!" he shouted, the thrill of the kill surging through his veins. He was alive, and for now uninjured. He embraced this fact; he always tried to. Panting, he slaughtered the last of the zombies, then turned to see how his companions were doing.

He saw Nick, surrounded by a group of his own, but he seemed to be in no trouble. He fought with skill and ease, killing each one with just one blow. He reloaded his sniper rifle quickly and continued, killing them before they could touch him. Alert and focused, he shot a boomer a distance away before it had a chance to come closer and attract more of the infected. Not too far away was Coach, who also seemed ok; fighting with two pistols as if he had used them all of his life. They punched and kicked at him, but not for long before he shot them dead.

Before Ellis had the chance to look for Rochelle, he felt something strike him hard in the side. He turned swiftly and swung without hesitation, a splatter of blood hitting his face, as he killed the two infected that had snuck up on him. He didn't have time to catch his breath; at that moment a horde burst out of a nearby building with incredible strength and speed. They sprinted towards him, growling and hissing with rage, but Ellis stood his ground.

He remembered when the apocalypse first hit. It had been difficult, shooting at these beings when he knew that they used to be normal people like himself. But he realized with time, that they weren't normal anymore. They were mutated, and they showed him no mercy, so neither did he. He raised the axe once again, getting ready to fight when a piercing scream erupted through the air.

_Rochelle_.

She was nearby, he realized. The scream did not sound too far. He had to hurry; heart pumping, he brutally slashed through the horde.

"Help me! Guys…Aaaaagh!"

Rochelle screamed, her voice filled with fear and pain.

_Why weren't the others helping?_

Ellis slashed the remaining infected, then turned quickly, scanning the area. He could still see Nick and Coach, both occupied but where was she? It was hard to tell what attacked her, with all the noise of fight he couldn't distinguish the sound of what it was. It could be a smoker or a charger. Hoping it wasn't a charger, or worse, a tank, he looked harder. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoes kicking out of a nearby bush.

He ran to her, and as he neared, he saw the hunter. At times, they were hard to avoid; they were quick and flexible, but fierce. It had Rochelle pinned and was savagely digging its sharp claws into her flesh. Ellis reacted quickly; he pulled out his shotgun and fired, killing it with one blow. As it dropped beside her, he ran to her side. Her body was right in the middle of a small pool of her blood.

"Rochelle! Are you ok?" he asked, gently helping her up.

"Yeah," she gasped, clutching her stomach. Her wounds were deep, but she was tough; she was still going to try to fight. And in the situation they were in, Ellis wasn't going to stop her. There were still many more infected surrounding them, there was no time for a break. As soon as she was on her feet, she took off, shooting at all the nearby infected, leaving Ellis to do the same. Within moments, everything was still and silent once again on this street of the city, and the group reunited. Dozens of dead bodies littered the ground around them.

"Guy, I need some help," Rochelle panted, exhausted from the fighting and blood loss. She leaned on a nearby wall for support, clutching her stomach. "Anyone got a health kit?"

"No, all out," Nick said, frowning with worry eyeing the increasing blood stain on her shirt.

"We gotta get her someplace safe," Coach said putting his arm carefully around Rochelle's waist, supporting her.

"I think we could all use some rest," Nick agreed.

Ellis stayed silent, scanning the area. It looked familiar somehow…

"Guys, I know where we are," he said, eyes lighting up.

"Yeah, that sign we passed by told us," Nick replied without smiling.

Ellis frowned. "No, I mean I know what part of the city we're in. Me and my buddy Keith used to come up here all the time. There's a deserted house right on the outskirts, we could check it out." He continued, pointing towards the grass right beyond a nearby building.

"Well couldn't hurt," Coach said. "Hurry, let's get outta here before more show up."

"Sounds good," Rochelle said in a horse whisper.

They set off walking through the grass, Ellis in the lead, Nick following, and Rochelle and Coach in the back. They walked silently, each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. But they were all wondering the same thing. How were they still alive and what was going to happen next. The way the world was now, those were constant questions in the back of their minds. Ellis broke the silence, turning around to face his companions with a smile.

"How you holdin' up Rochelle?"

"Had better days," Rochelle replied, managing a slight smile in return.

"I ever tell you about the time me and Keith went…" Ellis began trying to lighten the mood, but Nick interrupted.

"Is that the house over there?" he asked pointing towards a large, older house in the distance.

Ellis faced frontwards again. "That's the one!" he said happily, lightly jogging ahead.

He didn't see the tongue lashing towards him with great speed. Ellis only managed a quick gasp before the tongue wrapped around his throat and dragged him backwards to his fate. Ellis grabbed at the tongue, trying to release it from his neck but it was a feeble attempt. The smoker was too strong; it pulled him all the way back and into his claws. Ellis couldn't scream, he couldn't fight, he was trapped while this smoker was killing him.

Nick moved just as fast as the smoker, pulling out his sniper rifle and running towards it and his helpless friend. Being careful not to hit Ellis, he aimed perfectly and shot the smoker dead. Ellis fell to the ground, gasping for air. The surrounding smoke did not help him catch his breath.

When he felt his arm hit something soft, he backed away and reached for his axe. But it wasn't necessary. His eyes focused and he realized he was not looking at an infected. He crawled back and saw it was a woman, an ordinary woman. She appeared to be sleeping. But then many dead people look like they're simply sleeping.

"Ellis!" Nick shouted from behind him, coughing. "You ok?"

Ellis didn't say anything. He motioned towards the woman. "She's not infected," Ellis gasped. His throat still felt raw from the strangle.

"No," Nick agreed. He crouched down next to the woman and placed two fingers gently on her neck. "She's still alive, but barely."

"We gotta help her."

Nick turned back to Ellis and frowned. "She's already pretty much dead. We're all tired and injured. Taking her on would just slow us down."

"But we can't just leave her here, it aint right."

Nick stared intently at him. "Ok, fine," he mumbled, standing up and walking out of the brush.

Ellis crawled over the unknown woman and touched her cheek. It had only slight warmth.

"It's a good thing we found ya when we did," Ellis said softly, lifting her up with care. As he did, a pistol fell out of her hand. Always finding weapons useful, he swiped this up as well and followed the same path as Nick out of the brush. Outside the other three stood, waiting for him. Coach frowned slightly as he approached.

"Who's that?" he asked.

Ellis shrugged. "A woman. She's still alive, and I couldn't just leave her behind."

Before Coach could respond, Nick spoke first. "Let's go. We've got two very injured people here, and we don't wanna risk getting attacked again."

The other nodded in agreement, and they continued at a slightly quicker pace. As the house came into view, Ellis smiled feeling nostalgic. But his smile instantly faded. The house was crawling with infected. They were on the porch, on the balcony, wandering in the grass in front. They were everywhere.

Ellis' heart sank. "Oh no…"

Nick pulled out his sniper rifle, trying to stay quiet. But it didn't work, the infected heard. With fierce glowing eyes, they attacked.


	3. Chapter 3

For mutated beings they had incredible senses. Their hearing was sharp, and a few of them had excellent coordination. The next few seconds seemed to be a domino effect. The sound of Nick's gun had alerted those on the porch, and the sound of their attack alerted those in the house. Within moments, there was a horde all running towards the survivors. They sensed the life and blood running through their veins and they each wanted a piece of it.

"I thought you said this house was deserted!" Coach said, releasing Rochelle and grabbing his pistols. He did not wait for Ellis to respond; he ran towards the horde along with Nick, both showing no fear, no mercy. Even Rochelle straightened to the best of her abilities and tried to ignore the pain as she pulled out her gun as well. She stuck close to the other two men for cover, leaving Ellis behind who had not moved yet.

Ellis glanced down at the woman he was holding. Nick was right; she was probably close to dead. But there was something about her….he couldn't leave her behind. But could he possibly fight one handed? Was he strong enough to hold her and fight the horde?

There was not enough time to think. Most of the horde was attacking his three companions who went head first into it. But some of the smarter ones noticed Ellis behind and headed towards him. He decided to try.

He changed positions, placing the woman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as they neared him. There were at least five of them, some to his right and some to his left. He grabbed the pistol that he found with the woman; it was the first gun he could reach. They were closing in on him, their hissing and growls were maddening, their sight sickening…

He pulled the trigger…nothing. No bullets.

"Damn lady, you must've done some serious fighting," he muttered to the unconscious woman. The infected did not hesitate as Ellis had done. They punched, kicked, slashed at him, causing wounds to open and blood to gush from his body. He tossed the useless pistol aside and grabbed his own. As soon as it was in his hands he fired, shooting each one in the face, knocking them backwards.

He found it slightly humorous that in only a few weeks, his guns became his best friends. With them he felt safe and in control. He was. To his slight surprise he was fighting the horde one handed, with the woman still in his arms. She was still alive; somehow he could feel her slight pulse even though his own was beating out of control. The others from the horde heard his gunshots and rushed towards him as well.

"Guys! Get to the house!" he shouted to his friends ahead, firing and killing each zombie after the other. Absorbed in the fight, they did not reply, but they continued forward to the house. Whatever was inside, they knew they could handle it.

Ellis continued on the path to the house, following, from what he could see, the backs of his friends. It was becoming difficult, fighting and holding the woman. She was getting heavy, and the horde seemed to be never ending. He had a horrible feeling that he was running out of ammo.

As if fate was against him, at that moment all he heard were useless clicks from the pistol. He threw it at a nearby infected in frustration, which knocked it aside but did not do anything to the rest. He could see the porch nearby; the others must have made it inside.

"We're almost there, honey!" he said to the woman. They were so close; he was not going to die now. He punched his way through the horde which seemed to double in size within last few seconds. He could feel them grabbing at him, clawing at him, trying to drag him down. But he refused, staying strong, not just for himself but for this woman who needed his help.

At last he made it to the porch. He ran through open door, and once inside closed it with his free hand. A simple door would not stop them though; he held it tightly as the infected kept trying to get in. He could hear their roars of frustration as Ellis held the door against them.

"About time, Ellis!" Coach said from a corner near the door. Ellis looked over; Coach and Nick were standing behind a large dresser. Getting the idea, he moved out of the way allowing them to push it in front of the door. The dresser shook from the rage of the infected on the other side of the door. But it was still sturdy; they did not follow them inside.

"Whew," Coach sighed wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "That outta hold them."

"Ellis, you're still holding that girl?" Nick asked now noticing the two of them. "You could've died!"

"Well I didn't," he replied simply, walking towards a nearby couch and laying her gently onto it.

"Is she even still alive?"

"_Yeah_," Ellis said indignantly; he was starting to get irritated at Nick's attitude. He knelt beside the woman and touched her cheek again. Still warm; she was fighter. Any weak person would have been dead by now.

The house was oddly quiet. The rage of the infected outside faltered as they lost interest, but that didn't ease the minds of the survivors. There were always more of them somewhere.

"I'm gonna search the house," Coach said suddenly breaking the silence. "Maybe there's some health kits around." He spoke mostly to Rochelle who was sitting against the wall holding her sides in pain. Ellis looked around and stared at her, sympathy etched in his face. She looked horrible; she was pale and weak, so much to the point that she could only manage a small nod at Coach's statement. Coach started up the stairs cautiously.

"I'll help you," Nick said, following after Coach and leaving the three of them alone in the dark living room.

The three did not speak for the next few moments. Mainly because two of the three couldn't. Eventually Ellis stood and went to Rochelle's side. He felt a little guilty for not helping her sooner.

"C'mon, let's get you sitting on something more comfortable," he said pointing to a recliner at the opposite side of the room. Rochelle nodded, and accepted Ellis's outstretched arm. He pulled her up gently and slowly helped her across the room to the chair. She gave Ellis a small smile and groaned from the pain as she leaned back. It was dusty but suitable; she looked better in a way when she settled into it. She took a long inhale and exhale and closed her eyes, relaxing.

Ellis moved to the middle of the room and began to pace. What were they going to do now? One of his closest friends was severely wounded, and the other woman was close to death. After all the mutated beings he had killed so far, he should've been used to death. But no, he wasn't now and he wasn't sure he ever would be. He did not want anyone else, Rochelle or this woman, to die.

But if there was nothing in this house that could be of use to them, where could they go? They couldn't possibly fight anymore. If they had to go back out there, the two women would surely die. Ellis was so absorbed in his thoughts he did not hear Coach return from the upstairs. He jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Found some stuff," he said. Ellis turned and saw a health kit, pills and pipe bomb in his hands. Ellis felt his heart lighten.

"You could only find one health kit?"

"Yeah," Coach responded glancing at the two women. "Looks like you gotta make a choice."

Before Ellis could respond, Nick's scream echoed through the house followed by a loud crash from the back of the house. Ellis and Coach ran in that direction without hesitation, following the screams and the constant crashes. A large charger came into view; its colossal arm was wrapped around the front of Nick's suit and slamming him repeatedly into the ground. Coach pulled out a gun and aimed…

A loud gunshot and the charger dropped dead. Nick lay on the ground breathing heavily, Ellis ran to him immediately. Coach looked up; his gun was still up and ready but he didn't shoot it. His gaze lingered on a figure just outside of the hole in the wall that the charger made. The figure reloaded his gun and stepped into the house.

"Everyone okay?" he asked in a rough voice.

"We're fine…uh, thanks," Coach said to the man. He was buff, covered in tattoos and looked just as experienced with weapons as the rest of them.

"All clear guys!" the man called facing the outside of the hole. Two other men came through the hole within seconds; an older man and a younger one, each holding rifles.

"I got a health kit if your friend needs it," the younger man said.

"Wait! There's someone who needs it more." He helped Nick to his feet, then motioned for the others to follow him to the living room. They followed suit, each walking one by one down the narrow hallway.

"Zoey!" the younger man said when the living room came into view. He rushed over the couch and kneeled beside the woman. The other two men followed him showing just as much concern.

"Where did you find her?" the older man asked.

"Is she still alive?" the younger man asked before Ellis could respond.

"Yes but barely. Hopefully your health kit can help her. I found her a little ways away from the house. How do you know her?" The men didn't respond, busy with their teammate. Ellis reluctantly backed up away from the reuniting group. Now that she was with her team, she didn't need his help anymore.

"Ellis c'mon," Coach said, once again bringing him back down to earth. "We gotta help Rochelle."

She was still in the chair; appeared to still be sleeping.

"Hurry," Coach said, grabbing the health kit from the floor. "Before she slips into unconsciousness." Ellis went to Rochelle and gently shook her. His heart was thumping; he hoped she hadn't slipped _anywhere._ To his relief, she opened her eyes slowly, exhaustedly. Ellis backed up once again, allowing Coach to patch up her deep wounds.

Even though the room was full of people, it was quiet save for the rustling through health kits. Everyone was so used to healing their companions talking no longer seemed necessary; they weren't doctors, but they had learned how to heal each other. They were used to not feeling one hundred percent better, but they all knew that over time their wounds would heal. Both the physical and emotional.

Ellis walked over to the three men. Their faces seemed solemn.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked. For some reason, his heart rate increased. He had a feeling he knew what the answer was going to be.

"I'm not sure..." the older man said. Then he stood and stuck out his hand. "I'm Bill. Listen, thanks for saving her."

Ellis shook hands with the gentleman and smiled. "No problem. Name's Ellis."

"Nice to meet you Ellis. This is Louis," the man continued pointing to the younger man. "And Francis." Ellis nodded to the other two men. "And you already met Zoey." Bill said motioning to the woman. She still lay on the couch, motionless. It seemed like the health kit didn't make much of a difference.

"These are my friends, Coach, Rochelle, and Nick," Ellis introduced, pointing to each one respectively.

"Good to meet you all. Look, about Zoey…it looks like her injuries are worse than we thought, internal," Bill continued. "She needs medical attention…more supplies than these health kits provide."

"But where can we get that?" Nick asked. "There's nothing over here."

"We passed by a hospital about a day ago, no doubt there's supplies there." Francis said standing up and walking towards the others in the center of the room.

"Why didn't you guys stay there?" Rochelle asked in a horse voice. She stood up as well, but unsteadily. She appeared better; her stomach was completely wrapped up.

"The place was covered with infected. We almost didn't make it; we didn't even have time to search the place."

They all were silent for a moment, each wondering the same thing. Should they go for it?

"Let's do it." Ellis said suddenly. Six other faces looked at him. "If we stay here, were not gonna make it. Now that there's more of us, we have a better chance." A couple of the faces nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," Francis agreed. "I vote we go."

"Me too," Rochelle said, eyeing Francis with a smile.

"I'm in," Nick said.

Louis stood up and said quietly, "Well, to Mercy Hospital it is."


	4. Chapter 4

**I kinda wanted to add more, but i thought it was long enough. Hope you like it! -mlove**

A roar from the infected sounded from outside the house; the silence was over. The survivors knew they were skilled with weapons and were used to the fighting; it was as easy to them as breathing now. But where there were only eight of them—seven able to fight—and there were possibly a hundred against them, maybe more. It was not going to be easy to get out of there.

"We have to move," Coach said picking up his guns and reloading them. The others followed suit; they needed to have ammo, it was essential.

"I hope we can find more ammo somewhere, I'm running low," Nick muttered.

"Is there any in the house?" Bill asked, picking up Zoey carefully.

"No. Already checked. Found some pans though," Nick responded giving one to Bill's free hand.

"Here Nick, I have some extra ammo if you need it," Rochelle said.

Ellis wasn't listening to their idle conversation. His attention was focused on Zoey, who at the moment was being carried by Bill. He secretly mourned the fact that he no longer needed to carry her. But he was grateful that those men were there. They had patched her up well; she looked a little better now, but it still wasn't enough. She still hasn't woken up yet.

In a way, he felt a little ridiculous that they were risking their lives to save this woman. He had put all of his companions in more danger because he had found her. Then again, if he hadn't found her, she would be dead by now. The guilt subsided a little when he thought that. She was alive now because of his determination to help her.

She was pretty. Of course he noticed that right away, even with the fact that he was almost killed multiple times since he had found her. Even unconscious she looked nice, peaceful. He hoped he was still around by the time she woke up. Maybe her personality would be just as nice as her appearance. He was pretty sure it was.

"Ellis c'mon!" Coach called from the door, already armed and ready. "What's wrong with you today?"

"I don't even know man…" he replied pulling out his axe. He was out of ammo as well; that was the only weapon he had left. Not that he was too disappointed; he had to admit, he was pretty good with an axe. He gripped it tightly and held it in front of him, ready.

_Let's do this._

As soon as Nick and Coach moved the dresser away from the door, a hand burst through it. Barely a second later, more hands and feet followed, destroying the door as if it were merely paper instead of solid wood.

Ellis was right behind the other two men, and attacked as soon as the dresser was out of the way. He kicked down the door; it no longer needed to be there, and slashed the infected trying to get in. Blood splattered to the floor. He stepped outside, leaving the doorway clear for the others to follow, then gasped.

Fear seared through him; it seemed to chill him to the bone as he stared at the sight before him. There were more of the infected than any of them could have imagined. It seemed impossible to get through. Why was it that no matter how many of them they killed, they always kept coming back?

_Were they even killing them?_

There was no time to stop and ponder on the issue. A huge crowd of them were closing in on their small group, they had to act now. Whatever they were doing, it knocked out the infected long enough for them to get away.

Ellis gripped his axe tightly and swung, slashing as many heads as he could see. But with every head he slashed another replaced it a second later. The handle was growing slippery with the blood of the infected but he held strong on that grip. He killed like he never had before.

"Don't try to kill them all!" He faintly heard Nick shout. "Just try to get through!" Even this small task seemed impossible, there were so many. _Too _many. But he was glad he could still hear the gunshots of his companions. It meant they were still close by; they had to stay together to stay alive.

"Guys!" shouted Louis from somewhere behind him. "Back up!"

He tossed an object, and they all heard the familiar beeping and backed away from the direction he threw it. Instantly most of the infected tore away from them and towards the source of the noise. The fact that they were distracted easily was occasionally a good advantage. More followed, leaving a somewhat distinct path towards the street for the survivors. They ran, more like sprinted, down that path and a few seconds later the pipe bomb exploded, it along with dozens of the infected being destroyed in the blow.

"Yes!" Ellis shouted.

They stayed close together, enough that their weapons would allow, keeping each other protected. Ellis glanced over at Bill; to his relief he still had a good hold on Zoey. Ellis turned back forward, reminding himself to keep his head clear for the fights that lay ahead.

Now out of the grass and onto the street, things seemed a little clearer, but they didn't stop running just in case. Some of the nearby infected were very aware of their presence. But Francis and Rochelle in the front, both of whom had excellent aim, shot them dead before they could attack.

"Francis where do we go?" Rochelle shouted, panting a little from the run. Francis paused a moment, taking in his surroundings and thinking.

"I think it's this way," he said taking a sharp turn down an alley.

"Yeah, I remember passing that pawn shop," Louis agreed, pointing to a nearby building. As they cut through the alley, they slowed down. It was clear in this area and they weren't sure what was going to be waiting for them on the street on the other side.

They huddled around each other at the exit of the alley. Rochelle and Francis, still in the front, poked their heads out, checking the area. After a moment, they nodded to each other, then nodded to the others behind them. It was safe—for the moment.

Cautiously, quietly, they all followed one another out of the alley and onto the nearby sidewalk. They held their weapons up, ready but it didn't seem to be necessary; this street was oddly quiet. There were only a few infected wandering the area and none of them seemed the least bit interested in them. It was best not to disturb them, if they didn't want more trouble.

So they walked, eventually lowering their weapons and looking around the street.

It was a relatively large street; one that would've been filled with life if the world had not been mutated and destroyed. You could almost picture the people walking up and down the street; girlfriends shopping, parents pushing their children in strollers, couples holding hands and glancing through the windows of the stores.

Ellis looked around this street feeling saddened by the destruction that had taken place over just a few months. Everyone he knew and loved had either died or become mutated; there would never be a normal life for him, or anyone else, again. But he had to remember that he was not completely alone. Those traveling and fighting with him—fate had thrown them together and they were his family. And now the mission was to help a new addition to the family. And damn it, they were going to get there.

They did not speak while they walked. All were absorbed in looking around for any infected who wanted to attack; there was nothing to talk about anyway. Trying to keep his mind off of morose thoughts, Ellis scanned as well, searching for something, anything that could be useful. So far there was nothing. These buildings were destroyed; there might be something of use inside, but there was no time to thoroughly check. The only noticeable thing in this area was a bunch of cars. Cars….

"Guys wait," Ellis said in a hushed voice. "Maybe we could use one of these cars to get us to the hospital faster."

Everyone stopped walking and turned to look at him with curious expressions.

"Ellis you know messing with these cars could trigger an alarm," Nick reasoned.

"These cars are broken down anyway. The zombies probably messed with them," Coach added.

"Well just thought it'd be worth a try." Ellis spotted an old truck and moved towards it. "Look, this one would be big enough to hold all of us! I think I can still remember how to hotwire it…" he trailed off, walking around the truck, thinking. "I'm gonna try it."

He grinned and punched the window, shattering it, then unlocked the door. Everyone held their breath, expecting an alarm, but none came. The infected didn't seem to notice their presence, even when Ellis had shattered the window. Ellis got into the truck swiftly and got to work, leaving the other to surround the truck, covering him.

"So far, so good…this over here…" Ellis muttered to himself. "Ok, think I almost got it..."

A distant crash interrupted his train of thought. He glanced up, and saw a tank through the window of the truck. It was far away, but it was approaching them fast, destroying any objects in its path. _Fuck…_

"Tank!" he shouted, alerting the others. They already seemed to know; not even a second later he saw Nick, Coach and Francis running towards it already firing.

Ellis had to work faster. He went back down, and racked his brain, trying to remember all the steps. It was difficult; his mind was racing.

"Ellis, hurry up!" Rochelle called; she started to fire her gun too.

"Anyone have a Molotov?" Ellis heard Louis shout. The voices began to grow distant; they were all running towards the tank. He heard the tank flip a car, triggering its alarm.

"Oh shit," he muttered. Another roar erupted through the air; it was almost as loud as the tank's screams of fury. A loud crash, Nick screamed in pain…

Ellis's hands were shaking. "One more thing…"

The truck roared to life. "Oh YES!" he shouted, hopping in the front seat and placing his hands on the wheel. The truck was a little rough, but still better than being on foot. Only missing the other cars by a few inches he drove the little ways ahead to his friends. He held his axe out the window, slicing any nearby infected as he drove. "Whoo!" he shouted, the thrill coursing through him. He approached Bill first, stopping the truck. Bill put Zoey in the back first, then hopped in the back himself.

"Wow you're pretty agile old man," Ellis called.

"Years of training," was all Bill responded before pulling out his sniper rifle and fired.

The tank seemed to be tiring out. Ellis looked ahead and saw it drop to its knees, its signature sign of defeat. But there was still the rest of the infected; the destroyed car's alarm was still blaring loudly.

Ellis drove up to the others. They each got in, no longer worrying about killing the rest of the infected; the car would take them away anyway. The mutated beings clawed and punched at the truck, furious that their victims were escaping. Ellis did not hesitate; as soon as he saw Francis hop in the back with the rest, he drove off not looking back.

He put both hands on the wheel; it was a little hard to drive when there were so many other cars in the street. But he managed to maneuver around them. He could hear gunfire from the back. This did not surprise him; the truck was old and loud. He could see the infected turn their heads sharply as he approached.

"I see it! The hospital is right around this corner!" Louis shouted from the back.

Ellis turned sharply, leaving the others in the back to grip the sides for safety. Ellis saw the sign too, and drove towards it. The hospital was so close…they were going to make it.

He pulled up in front of the hospital entrance, and got out axe in hand. Francis was right, the place was _covered _with infected. The others jumped down from the back, this time Francis grabbed a hold of Zoey, and they all rushed to the entrance.

Ellis managed to clear some of the way but there were more coming towards them, hissing, claws outstretched as they ran inside the hospital.

"Hurry, get upstairs!" Bill shouted. "We can barricade ourselves in one of the rooms!" They raced to the stairs. The sound of shattering glass could be heard from behind them as the infected followed them inside the building. Louis and Coach, in the rear fired constantly trying to get them off of their backs. Ellis, in the front sliced as many of them as he could see. His face, his clothes, all were now soaked with blood.

They made it to the second story, and Ellis raced into the first room he saw, the others trailing behind him. They seemed to be in a patient's room; fortunately, this one was empty save for a dead person lying on the bed. Louis grabbed a large cabinet as soon as they were all in and blocked the door. It rattled and shook; the cabinet most likely wasn't going to last…

"Guys!" Francis shouted putting Zoey down on the floor. "I don't feel a pulse anymore…"

"What?" Louis shouted his back against the cabinet trying to keep it up against the door.

"Maybe there's a defibrillator in here," Rochelle said instantly going through the supplies in the room. Ellis joined her search, frantically going through the drawers and shelves. _She can't be dead…_

"Found it!" Rochelle shouted running back over to Zoey. Those two words were like music to Ellis's ears; he ran back to her too, leaning over Zoey's pale face. Francis took the paddles and placed them to Zoey's chest. Ellis's heart was beating faster than it ever had. She _can't_ be dead, he thought once more. _She can't._

A burst of electricity surged through Zoey once. The others watched and waited, worried.

_C'mon Zoey…_

Another burst.

_Please…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Some of the lines in this chapter were written by a friend of mine, just wanted to acknowledge that. Thanks for the reviews! It definitely helps me write faster, that and I'm simply having fun writing this story :) Anyway, hope you like this chapter! -mlove**

At first there was nothing Zoey could see; nothing she could feel, as if all her senses had been cut off. But then things changed.

It felt like she was in a dream now. The world wasn't like this, it wasn't _normal_ anymore, she knew that. But the farther she went into this world, the less she remembered the other one, the one that was destroyed and mutated.

In this world, she was healed. Her family and friends were alive. She was back in school and walking down familiar streets once again, waving to familiar faces. That's how she knew she was dead. But she accepted it, _embraced_ it. Because when you're already dead, no mutated beings attacked you. There was no need to always have weapons on you. She was safe and happy again. Until she started to hear things.

It was as if the senses that belonged to her other life, the one that seemed so far away now, had returned. She heard voices, did she know those people? There was gunfire, lots of it, screams…

The perfect world was slipping away, all those horrible noises getting louder…something was bringing her back.

_No, I'm supposed to be dead…_

Zoey was back in darkness.

_Am I alive?_

How did she come back? It couldn't be possible. She tried to remember what happened to her, tried to replay them in her mind, but it was vague. Something was attacking her…there was blood…lots of blood…It was too hazy. It all seemed like a blur. The only thing she could remember clearly—well, for the most part—was that perfect world.

_But it was just a dream,_ she realized slowly. _Somehow…I am alive._

She tried to move. It was difficult; her limbs felt so heavy, and the pain…it seemed to shoot through her in an instant. Even her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. A soft groan escaped her lips as she struggled to move. _Why was this so hard?_

"Zoey?"

What was that noise? That voice?

"Oh my god, Zoey, are you awake?"

Footsteps now, heavy and fast could be heard coming towards her. Someone was there, wanting her to open her eyes. And she finally did.

Bright light flared down at her; white, glaring brightness. It was blurry, but before her eyes could focus, something blocked the light and she felt a warm body on top of her own. She knew it was meant to be affectionate, but it just caused her pain.

"Ow…"she groaned. She couldn't lift her arm to push it off; it hurt too much, just like the rest of her body.

"Oh, sorry!" Louis's face came into view as her eyes focused. "I'm just so glad you're finally awake! We all thought you weren't going to make it."

_I almost didn't. _

"Louis…what's going on?" her voice was raspy; her throat was so dry, it was causing her pain. She swallowed, hoping it would help some, then tried to speak again.

But as quickly as Louis came, he was gone from her view again. She glanced around, only so much that would not cause pain, and saw that she was in a hospital. Or it appeared to be a hospital, but much of the room was in ruins. Louis reappeared, holding a glass of water and a straw. He gave it to her, gently placing the straw between her lips.

The water was warm, but it felt so good running down her sore throat. It seemed to clear her mind as well, help her focus. She looked up at Louis, his battered clothes, his worried expression. It was good to see him. Before she knew it, the water was gone.

"I'll get you some more," Louis said backing away allowing the bright lights to hit her once more. Zoey heard Louis speak again, farther away.

"Guys! She's awake!"

Quick footsteps began to fade, and she realized she was alone in the room. It was quiet; she didn't expect quiet. She strained her ears, listening for sounds of the infected. But she couldn't hear anything.

A moment later she heard the sound of many footsteps. How many people were there? From what she could remember, there were only three other survivors other than her. She saw Louis enter the room again, followed by a few other people, four of which she didn't recognize.

She tried to sit up, the pain was intense, but she managed a slight sitting position, and smiled at the three men she recognized. Bill went to her first, his old weary face strained with concern.

"Zoey, thank god!"

"Hey Bill," her voice was soft, but at least not raspy anymore.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like everything hurts. What happened?"

"You don't remember anything?" Francis questioned from behind Bill.

"A little…it's too hazy."

"You were attacked by a Tank," he responded.

"You were surrounded Zoey, we couldn't even find you," Louis said, his voice apologetic.

"But someone did," Bill said. He motioned to the other four people. "Thank god these people were around, they found you and brought you to safety."

"Well, technically he found you," spoke a man in a white suit. He was pointing to another man, a younger one, towards the back, who grinned. Her eyes returned to the older man when he spoke again. "I'm Nick, this here is Rochelle, Coach, and Ellis." Nick motioned to each person respectively, a woman, another man and the younger one in the back.

"Glad to see you're doing ok," the woman—Rochelle—said. They all stayed near the back, giving her room to breathe.

"Thank you…for helping me out," Zoey said with a small smile at the four of them.

"You should really be thanking him," Nick said pointing to Ellis. "He was determined to save you, damn near carried you everywhere we went."

Zoey glanced at the young man who had saved her. He still hadn't said anything. He had his head down, looking at his blood caked shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Zoey didn't reply either. Why did this guy go through so much trouble? He should've just left her. If he did, then she would be back in that world, with her family...

"Do you need anything?" Rochelle asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"No, I'm ok. Honestly it's just good to see another woman!" the two women laughed, knowing both had been surrounded by men for a long time.

A loud crash interrupted their brief moment of amusement. It was distant, but whatever it was, it could reach them soon if they didn't act fast. They did. Already armed, Bill headed for the door first.

"Let's go guys, anyone have any bombs or Molotov's?"

"Yea I got one," Louis said, reloading his gun and following him to the doorway.

"Someone needs to stay here with Zoey," Ellis suddenly spoke up.

"Then you do it," Nick said, following the others. Everyone else took off before Ellis could respond.

"Uh…well…ok," Ellis stammered, as everyone left in haste.

Zoey leaned back against the pillows feeling useless. She wanted to help them, but there was nothing she could do, not when she could hardly move. Her eyes followed Ellis as he dragged a chair that wasn't broken over by her bed and sat down. He looked about her age, maybe a little younger, but he was well built, with muscles that he might've had before the apocalypse. He had decent features, and a friendly smile, which he displayed when he sat down.

She didn't return it.

"I'm…uh…so happy you're doing ok," he said his voice a little shaky.

"Why did you do it?" her voice suddenly went sharp.

Ellis looked confused. "Do what?"

"Why did you save me?"

"Well…I…uh…" he rubbed his neck nervously. "I couldn't just leave you behind."

"Yes you could!"

Ellis stared at her, startled. Was she really angry with him? After all he risked for her?

"You should've just left me for dead."

She looked away, consumed with anger and guilt. It seemed like this man went to through much to help her, and he could have died doing so. She knew she shouldn't have snapped at him. But it was too late now. He scooted away from the bed and averted his gaze towards the window. Zoey glanced down at the bed, feeling even more guilty. Neither spoke.

_What was that about?_ Ellis wondered. He had never known someone feel angry about being saved before.

His heart sunk a little as he watched his companions fighting off the horde, wishing he could be down there instead of stuck in this overwhelming silence.

They seemed ok from what he could see, but clearly, things aren't always what they seem.


	6. Chapter 6

A life of fighting; that's what this was. Constant fighting and trying to stay alive. But was it worth it?

Louis asked himself this question every time he stepped out onto broken pavement, shotgun in hand; every time he blew the heads off of men, women, and children. Could he keep doing this? Keep living like this? Sure, he had companions, and—for now—they were all okay. But how long would this last? How much longer would it be before they all died away and there were none of them left? Before they just became a part of this broken world?

Louis was losing hope; losing more of it every day. Sometimes he thought about not fighting. Just standing still and letting them get him. After all, it was going to be his fate eventually. But something in him kept moving, even though he was tired. No, it was more than that; he was mentally and physically exhausted. Not just from the fighting, but from the searching for food and water, not having a decent night's sleep. His body ached, his bones ached. He was in pain to his very _core._

They had come outside to see a horde rushing towards them, and tank not too far behind. It thrashed about, throwing nearby cars, setting off their alarms and alerting more of the infected. Louis found it odd how a hospital, of all places, could be the most dangerous. They had only seemed to make it out the front doors when they were surrounded.

It was hard to focus on fighting. Things seemed to be moving in the blur, infected were everywhere, on his left and right. He tried to fight, but he had trouble keeping up. Exhaustion was consuming him.

"Louis _move_!"

He heard Francis yell from a distance. Mind occupied, Louis didn't realize he _was_ standing still, his gun at his side, gazing at the horde running right to him. After thinking about it, considering it, it seemed to have become reality. But no matter how much he wanted this life to be over, he couldn't let his team down. Not for _anything_.

Louis moved. He darted out of the way just in time, his reflexes quickened from all the practice. He landed in a nearby alley, his body hitting the pavement hard as the stampeding horde ran past him. He wanted to lie there, just to rest, but his team was in trouble. He stood, ignoring the aches and reloaded his gun, heading to the entrance of the alley. A soft sob halted him.

He turned to see a tiny woman hunched over in the dark corner; her sobs quiet but audible. She looked like she needed help; but Louis knew better. He remembered a time when Zoey had fallen for that, thinking she was a normal, scared woman. But this woman was just another one of the infected…only a very dangerous one.

Louis backed up slowly, trying not to disturb her. One wrong move and everything would be over. She was quick and unbelievably strong. Somehow, she could pin any of them down and kill within a matter of minutes.

He did not dare turn his back to her. In case she did sense him, he wanted to be ready. He glanced around the alley, trying to keep most of his focus on her, but something else caught his attention.

He was not sure how he could see it, it was a dark object, but even in the shadows he could faintly make out what it was. It looked like a radio…maybe they could contact someone and get help…but was it worth risking his life over?

He had to try, there might be other survivors out there, and maybe they could finally get out of here. He moved as silently as he could, edging around the witch, trying to keep as far away from her as possible. He stuck to the side of the alley wall, trying to keep his heavy shoes from making too much noise. To him, they seemed incredibly loud, but so far, she didn't seem to notice his presence.

She stayed huddled in the corner. Even when he was sure she could see him from her side view, she did nothing. He kept his gaze on her as he neared the back of the alley. Her sobs were very clear now; she held her arms as if she were cold. Her appearance could fool anyone.

The radio was placed only a foot away from the witch, he had to be careful. He stretched out his arms, putting him in an awkward position to grab the radio. But he managed, placing both hands around the device, and lifting it from the ground. But it slipped from his grasp; the device was covered in blood.

Louis could barely manage a scream, the moment the radio collided with the ground, the witch was up and running, red eyes glowing with rage. Not even a second later, Louis was down, and the witch stood above him, clawing and slashing right through his clothes, trying to reach his flesh, possibly his heart…

Suddenly Louis no longer felt anything. The witch was screaming so loud, Louis could barely hear the gunshot. Heart drumming, Louis looked over and saw the witch lying next to him, her horrible eyes now lifeless. Even in death she still looked horrifying.

"I told your ass to move!" Francis shouted, running into the alley. He held out a rough calloused hand, which Louis took gratefully.

"Thanks, man. That was a good shot." His eyes travelled down to his waist, expecting the worst, but to his surprise, the witch only seemed to rip his clothes, she had barely broken his skin.

"What the hell are you doing in here? You were pretty much asking to be attacked," Francis said, reloading. "Why did you get so close to her?"

"For this," Louis walked back to his original position, and picked up the radio. Francis widened his eyes.

"Does it work?"

"I don't know. Figured it was worth getting just in case."

"Yea we can probably…" A scream interrupted Francis. Both men rushed out of the alley to see Rochelle pinned against the wall by a charger. Everyone else covered in blood and sweat seemed to be occupied, surrounded by their own group of infected.

"I'll get her!" Francis shouted over the roar of the infected that surrounded them. "Take care of that radio!"

Louis nodded and each ran off in different directions, Francis towards Rochelle, Louis back towards the hospital, his arms held tightly against the radio. He glanced up; his heart began pumping. He could see dozens of infected crawling through one of the windows of the hospital…the part that Ellis and Zoey were in.

Sometimes Louis wished more power wasn't an effect of the mutation. It made things so much more difficult. He picked up the pace towards the hospital, all his previous thoughts about giving up abandoned. His friends needed him.

* * *

"What was that?" Zoey asked sitting straight up in the bed, awakened by the sound of shattering glass.

"I don't know," Ellis responded, already moving towards the door. It burst open before he could reach it; about a dozen zombies crawled into the room. As Ellis started firing, Zoey tried to move. She rubbed her temples as she tried to get up from the bed; sitting up so quickly had given her a severe migraine. She managed to swing her legs to the side even though one was feeling very heavy from the cast, and placed her bare feet on the floor.

She inhaled deeply. Ellis was in trouble, he had now moved to the hallway, but she could hear his frantic gunshots, more were coming. Zoey tried to stand, but it was useless, her body was too weak. She fell to the floor, crying out from the pain. Breathing heavily, she crawled around the floor, looking for something, anything useful. She eyed a pistol in the corner, and crawled as fast as she could towards it.

She felt beads of sweat form on her forehead as she crawled, hearing hissing from behind her. She had to hurry. A surge of relief ran through her as her fingers grabbed hold of the metal, the familiarity surrounding her when she wrapped her hands around it and fired. With one shot, the infected dropped dead. She smiled a little, feeling better with a weapon in her hands.

She grabbed hold of the wall, trying to stand once again, adrenaline running through her veins. Her legs felt stronger now, she put most of her weight on her good one. She limped out of the room, grabbing hold of the nearby tables and cabinets. When she landed in the hallway, she heard a scream for help.

_Ellis_.

It was so hard to move. She never felt slower in her life, and so frail. But still she inched along, shooting any infected she could see. But there weren't many, Ellis seemed to have gotten to them all. He screamed again. _I'm coming!_ She wanted to scream, but it was hard to even breathe. The pain was consuming her.

She peered into a room, the screams were close now. She could faintly make out the outline of Ellis held up by a smoker. Eyes beginning to water, she tried to aim carefully. She killed it in three shots, making things abnormally quiet save for both her and Ellis's ragged breathing. Zoey stayed by the door, catching her breath.

"Thanks," Ellis said struggling to get up.

Zoey merely nodded, coughing from the smoke. She stayed where she was; her body ached more than ever. It was difficult to just stand there.

She suddenly felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.

"Zoey, what are you doing up? Where's…" Louis began, peering into the smoke-filled room. As it cleared, he spotted a body on the floor. "Ellis!"

He rushed over to the fallen man, and gently helped him up. Blood was seeping through his clothes but still he managed a smile.

"Good to see you're ok."

"You too, we need to get you a health kit," Louis started wrapping Ellis's arms around him, supporting him. "And Zoey, you need to lie back down."

Zoey just nodded, her head spinning. Louis extended his free arm, and she eagerly grabbed it. The weight of two people was challenging especially on Louis's aching limbs. But he managed. These were his friends, and they needed him. He steered them away from their previous room, continuing down the hall.

"Where are we going?" Ellis asked, his voice strained from the pain.

"To another room. I found something, and I placed it in there, rushing to get to you guys." He kept his hold on the two of them, trying to resist the urge to wipe his sweaty brow.

"What is it?"

Louis smiled. "It's our way out of here."


	7. Chapter 7

**Just a quick note, I revised Chapter 6 a little, just a few more words. But otherwise its the same. Also I'm going to try to update faster, I really want to finish it! Only a few more chapters left now. Hope you like this next one! Oh and just to confirm, I did not take any ideas from any other stories -mlove**

It was a quiet night. Surprisingly quiet to say there was so much chaos earlier that day. The streets were silent and empty. If anyone were to look at this part of the city, they would not suspect that there were eight people still alive in a broken down hospital.

The survivors used as many items as they could find to block all the doors, the windows, any holes in the building that would allow in the infected. They were hoping it would be sufficient; in the back of their minds, all were praying for a night of rest. They huddled together in the tiny hospital room. It was tight, but it was better to stay close together than separated.

Zoey watched her companions chat amongst each other. In a world full of terror, she found it odd that they could muster any kind of joy. Rochelle sat against the wall with Francis, admiring his tattoos. She couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be some kind of spark between the two.

Her eyes moved over to Bill who was talking with…what was his name? Nick? She made a note to try to remember all of their names. It frustrated her that she could not do such a simple task. However only hours ago, she had just returned to the present, from a world that did not exist. It was no surprise that her brain was still fuzzy.

She eyed the other gentleman, Coach by the window, gazing out of it, appearing lost in thought. Most of the window was boarded up save for a tiny portion which Coach used to his advantage. Zoey wished she could see it too. In this world it was nice to gaze at the moon and the stars, just knowing that something was still the same. But everyone had insisted that she occupy the only bed in the room, seeing as she was still injured. She obeyed, but it made her uncomfortable, seeing everyone else on broken chairs or the floor.

Her eyes wandered over to the last two people, one of which she knew she was intentionally avoiding. Louis and Ellis sat in the corner furthest away from her bed, and yet she could still hear Ellis's voice. He was laughing, and cracking jokes. He always seemed to have such spirit and humor, despite their conditions.

She admired that. And right off the bat, she ruined any chance of a friendship with the man by being so short with him. When all her did was save her. She wasn't angry anymore; she wanted to apologize to him. But why was it so _difficult_ to approach him? She had no trouble communicating with the other men.

She looked away, realizing that she was staring. Not that it mattered, he didn't seem to notice. When Bill spoke her eyes moved to him, grateful that she now had somewhere to look.

"Hey guys, we should probably talk about what Louis found today," Bill said, his voice carrying over everyone else. It wasn't particularly loud, but it was just enough to get their attention. The talking gradually faded away to silence, as everyone awaited the news.

As if on cue, Louis stood and walked over to a nearby cabinet. "I found this today during the fight," he said, opening the cabinet and pulling out the device.

"Is that what I think it is?" Coach asked in a slightly astonished tone, taking the few short steps away from the window towards them.

"Yeah," Louis confirmed.

"Where did you find that?" Rochelle questioned, standing up.

"In a nearby alley. I can't believe it was just sitting there."

"Yeah the man almost died trying to get it," Francis chuckled.

Louis smiled too. The fact that he almost died wasn't funny. But in times like this, and the fact that they were still alive, it was nice to have some humor.

"What was it doing in an alley?" Rochelle wondered.

Louis shrugged. "Stroke of luck I guess."

"Well in today's world, you can find almost anything in the streets," Bill said, walking over to the radio to get a closer look. The man was older, but somehow his eyes were still sharp; he examined the device thoroughly.

"It looks to be in pretty good shape," he concluded.

"Well not good yet," Louis responded. "I don't know if it works. I dropped it too, that might have done some damage."

"You almost died for something that might not work?" Nick asked. Zoey frowned in his direction. She had negative thoughts just like the rest of them, however she never voiced it. Her heart lifted at the thought of a possible escape. It gave her…hope.

As if he was reading her mind Ellis said, "C'mon man, now we got something to hope for. Maybe now we can get outta here."

"That's exactly why I grabbed it."

"Then why are we standing around it talking?" Francis said, standing up with the rest of them. "Let see if the damn thing works!"

"Yeah, let's try this thing out!" Ellis agreed.

Bill, having examined it earlier, flipped the on switch. Silence filled the air, as they waited. Nobody moved, nobody seemed to breathe from the anticipation.

But nothing happened. The radio sat there, useless, lifeless. And slowly, disappointment filled the room, in replacement of the silence.

"It doesn't work," Louis said his voice small.

"Damn," Francis muttered in frustration. He turned away from the group, a frown plain on his face. That was it, there was no way out.

"Hmm…" Bill examined the radio once again, checking around at different angles, looking at the different pieces. "I think it can be fixed."

"Really?" Rochelle asked, coming closer.

"Yeah," Bill responded. "Looks like it just needs a few parts here and there. If I can rack my brain, I can figure out how to put it together again."

"How?"

"What do we need?"

"Where can we find it?"

Everyone talked at once, excited by the bit of hope. They all came closer, gathering around the radio, making things tighter between them than they already were.

Zoey looked at Bill curiously. He was a wise old man. But could he really fix this thing? She didn't know if she could take any more false hope. He glanced over at Ellis once again, for some reason, her eyes kept wandering over to him. He had a huge grin on his face; obviously, it was not hard for him to have hope.

"Whoa, everyone slow down," Bill said, putting his hands up to block them away. "Give me some room to breathe. I didn't guarantee anything, I'm gonna need to open this thing, look inside. But I'm pretty sure it just needs a few simple parts. A new battery, a proper outlet for the plug, and maybe if we move, it can pick up a better signal."

"Oh that's easy! There's tons of junk in this hospital, we can probably find all that stuff in no time." Ellis responded, his grin permanent on his face.

"Great," said Coach from the back. "We could split up into twos or threes, and search this place up and down."

"Wait, who's going to stay here with Zoey?" Louis questioned.

"Don't worry, I can walk," Zoey said, speaking for the first time that evening.

"What are you talking about, you're still injured," Francis said eyeing her. The others looked unconvinced as well.

"Well she saved my ass earlier," Ellis spoke up in her defense. "She came all the way down the hall and saved me from a smoker."

"I mean I have to walk slow, but I can manage with a pistol at least," Zoey said, already swinging her legs around the bed. She wanted to move, wanted to fight. She didn't want to feel useless anymore. Just sitting there while her friends were fighting for their lives was eating away at her.

"Okay well hold on. We should probably rest tonight, while things are calm. We can start the search in the morning." Bill reasoned.

"I don't know if I'm gonna be able to sleep, ya'll, I can't wait to get outta here!" Ellis said, raising his voice, resulting in Rochelle shushing him.

Nick chuckled at his excited friend. "Well try Ellis; we'll all feel better when we have more energy." He was already sinking back against the wall, and getting comfortable against the hard floor.

"I'll feel better when I have a shower," Rochelle muttered taking her original position next to Francis.

Everyone returned to where they were previously, and as time wore on, the room quieted. Even Ellis, who insisted on telling numerous stories about some guy named Keith, was fast asleep within the hour.

Zoey lay awake in bed, not feeling that tired. It could have been the fact that she had been unconscious for so long, or the fact that she hadn't been fighting like the rest of them. She didn't know. But as she lay in the lone bed, she thought to herself. Maybe Bill would fix the radio, and maybe…just maybe…someone could rescue them and they would finally leave this hell.

Maybe they could go somewhere safe, and who knows? Maybe her and her little team wouldn't have to separate. Her eyelids grew heavy as she thought about their possible future. She didn't know what it would hold. But she could imagine; she thought about them together and safe. It was enough to help her drift off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Blood spurting into a blood red sky. Screams and cries of death from the infected. Bodies on the ground…so many bodies, you couldn't walk without stepping on one. An empty shotgun, weary from all the use, dropped to the feet of the survivor. Dirty bloody hands interlocked, the sweaty face of a woman greeted his own, smiling. They were _alive_.

A violent motion, a shaking sensation, and the face was gone. Ellis opened his eyes, a new face looking at him instead.

"Ellis, c'mon we gotta go," Coach said, kneeling next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh…right," Ellis said, thickly, still a little unsure of where he was, what was going on. He rubbed his tired eyes, clearing them, as his brain worked harder trying to remember. It slowly came back to him. He had been dreaming. And this time, he could remember it.

This was odd for him. For the past few weeks, months maybe, he did not know, whenever they had a chance for a couple hours of sleep he did not dream. He simply went to sleep then woke up; he remembered nothing in between. But for the first time in a long while, he dreamed something. Even if it was similar to the world he was in now.

That woman…he knew it was Zoey. Those eyes, he could remember from the dream, were filled with happiness as she looked at him. The actual Zoey was not. She stood by the door; pistol in hand, her face nothing but seriousness.

Ellis stood his mind clear now. Everyone was gathering weapons, ammo, reloading. He figured he should do the same. "Hey, ya'll what's going on?" he asked as he reloaded, not speaking to anyone in particular.

"Zoey heard something," Coach said, stowing away a crowbar. "We're not sure, but it could be the infected trying to get in."

"Didn't we block everything?" Ellis questioned.

"We thought so, but you never know. There are probably some cracks we missed."

Ellis nodded; there always seemed to be something they missed. And whatever that was, the infected found it and used it to their advantage.

"Everybody ready?" Bill asked the group. All huddled by the door, weapons in hand, both guns and melee. Only Louis had more of a load, he held the radio in one arm, cradling it like a baby, while he held a sharp axe in the other. There was no need to respond to Bill's question; they were ready. Zoey opened the door.

The hallway was strangely quiet. For some reason, Ellis had expected a horde waiting for them instantly, as that had always happened in the past. But then there had rarely been a time when they had a chance to block everything. Eight sets of shoes squeaked across the floors as they walked, seeming to make too much noise.

The rounded a corner, running into a table placed in front of the door. Ellis remembered where that door led to; he had helped to block it. It led to a stairway; they figured it was safer to stay on the higher floors.

The table shook suddenly, rattling as the beings behind it tried to force their way in.

"Guess they got through our barriers," Coach muttered.

"Well I figured it wouldn't hold them out forever," Nick said in reply.

Not needing a use for it now, Bill kicked the table aside, allowing the infected to crash through the door. They were shot and killed almost a second later, the survivors ready for the attack. They stepped over the dead zombies and piled into the narrow stairway, hovering around the break between the staircases.

"Where should we go?" Rochelle asked.

"I wish I knew where things were in this hospital. Maybe we could split up, four of us take the upstairs, and four take the downstairs."

Nobody agreed to this plan right away, all thinking the same thing. They had just found more people who were normal and could fight. Why give up the extra security?

"Look, we made it this long as separate teams of four. I'm sure we can do it again," Bill reasoned.

Slowly, they formed their groups based on the positions they were in; Bill, Nick, Louis, and Coach planned to search the upstairs, Zoey, Ellis, Rochelle, and Francis, the downstairs.

"If you find anything, come to the roof. We will get a better signal from there," Bill said. It was a silent goodbye, nobody said a word, the two groups just went their separate ways, each inwardly hoping the other would be safe.

* * *

Zoey had to admit, being in this group was different. It was a nice change, but slightly unnerving. Now there were only three other people rather than seven, once again. She stuck close to the group, not wanting to get too far back.

They walked downstairs in silence, approaching a door that lead to the first floor. Francis opened the door cautiously, not wanting to draw attention. But it made no difference. The old, rusting door creaked when he moved it, alerting the attention of the zombies within. Their heads snapped to them, indifferent eyes turning fierce.

Francis kicked the door open fully and rushed into the room, his companions following behind no longer trying to be quiet. They had found themselves in a waiting room. The windows were broken, chairs were split in two. Bile and blood covered the floors, so much one could slip on them. But there was no time to look at the area; the infected rushed towards them instantly and the survivors had to fight. They shot and slashed at the mutated beings, trying to kill them all.

Zoey fought as hard as she could, though her injuries limited her. She could only move so far and so fast; she slightly envied her companions who could move quickly through the room. She stuck close to the wall of the waiting room, trying to avoid the infected from getting behind her. But still they managed to catch her off guard, using their quick speed to get to all different sides of her body. She was grateful that her aim had not weakened; she killed almost all the ones she could see with one shot.

She looked around, between the distorted faces, the red glowing eyes, searching for her friends. The room was not very big, but she could not see them. She could hear the guns firing, but where were the bodies controlling them? She inched along the wall, scanning the room in between her gunshots, her heart rate starting to increase. It was so hard to fight with all these bindings on her.

At last, her eyes fell onto a doorway on the opposite side of the room, a pair of boots running through it was all she could see. No doubt that was one of them; they had left her behind again. She tried to follow, shooting and punching; a pistol could only do so much. She wished she had a better weapon, but the others were too heavy for her weakened arms to handle.

Suddenly the path to the doorway became clearer, blinding flashes of lights and the infected crowding around her face were gone, blown away across the room. She lowered her weapon, it was no longer needed, and looked over at the person who defeated them all, skillfully, effortlessly.

Ellis still held the gun up high, a goofy grin on his face. He ran over to Zoey.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Where did the others go?"

"I guess they figured it was more important to just get through the room rather than kill them all. But seems like they left ya back here."

"Yeah, I can't believe how slowly I'm moving. Damn cast."

"Well don't worry, I know you don't like me much, but I'm not gonna leave you behind."

Zoey frowned. _Oh no…_

"Ellis, don't think that, I…"

A door leading to another hallway burst open beside them, infected crawling through.

"C'mon! We gotta go!" He grabbed her hand, leading her through the room. She fired her pistol as she ran, knowing her thought was going to have to wait.

* * *

Rochelle and Francis landed in the hallway, panting.

"Looks like we just made it," Francis muttered. "Hope there wasn't anything useful in there."

"We couldn't have looked anyway, there were too many of them," Rochelle responded, clutching her side.

"What's wrong?" Francis asked, glancing at her position.

"Nothing just a cramp. You'd think all this running would help me get in shape," she said with a small grin. Francis returned it, but only for an instant. Something was wrong. Rochelle noticed the change in his expression.

"What is it?"

"Where are Zoey and Ellis?"

Rochelle's eyes widened. "Oh no, we gotta go ba…"

The hallway was long, but the tongue could still reach. The hallway was dark, which was perfect for the smoker to hide in the shadows. The two survivors suspected nothing when they wandered out there, not until his unnaturally strong tongue grabbed hold of Rochelle cutting her off midsentence.

The tongue wrapped around her throat, choking her, as it pulled her backwards into the darkness.

* * *

The four men trampled upstairs, their boots echoing through the stairway. They reached the third floor, a similar hallway to the one they had spent the night in. But the lights flickered, on and off, ominously as they walked through, making a chill run down Louis's spine. He had expected more infected around here. But it was silent, save for their loud footsteps.

Bill kept his gaze upward, glancing at the overhead signs, trying to gain a sense of direction. Some of the signs were still intact; and if he had learned anything from the military, it was to use whatever you could find. And that was the goal for today. If they could get that radio working, maybe he could _finally_ live the rest of his life as a retired old man. No more fighting. His heart skipped a beat when one sign caught his attention.

"Guys, let's go left. There's an operating room that way. There's bound to be some machinery in there."

They followed, obviously agreeing with the old man, and veered left along with him. The operating room came into plain sight. It was a fairly large part of the hospital, probably saved a lot of lives back when it was active. Now the room was in ruins, dead bodies lay strewn about, some mutated, some not.

The room was not pleasant, but Bill was right, there was a lot of equipment and machinery. There was no time to hesitate; the men instantly went to work searching the place. Looking for anything of use, to fix their last source of hope. There was no need to be neat, the place was already a mess. They turned over tables, searched the cabinets violently. In this world, time was a factor, and there never seemed to be enough of it.

Bill searched the machines, racking his brain trying to figure out if the parts could work for the radio. His mind was racing, but he came to the conclusion that some of them would. He took the pieces apart, carefully but with a good pace, all the while hoping it would work. Louis glanced over at Bill, observing his actions.

"You find something?" he asked.

"Maybe, where did you put the radio?"

"Over there on that table."

The simple device lay quietly on the table. Who knew such a device might be something that would save all of their lives. He brought the pieces to the table, and paused a moment, thinking. The others didn't bother to crowd around him, knowing it would just add to the anticipation that already filled the room.

Work on the radio was difficult, as many good things in life are. He didn't have the right tools to pry the device apart, but he tried, and as he did, his fingers gradually became sore from the work. He matched up piece by piece, screwing in one thing, taking out another. The other men pretended not notice, but inside their hearts were hammering, waiting for a signal that he was finished.

At last, he spoke, a simple sentence, but enough to make his companions turn around eagerly.

"That might have done it."

The four men rushed over, huddling around the machine.

"Plug it in and see!" Coach said.

"Alright, hang on!" The old man felt weary, but even his heart was in his throat. He was sure it would work, but yet there were always doubts lingering in the back of his mind. He plugged the cord in a nearby outlet, and flipped the on switch.

A light flashed on the radio, a light that was not there the last time they tested it. Bill cranked the volume, static from the radio echoing through the room. Normally they would have been worried that the noise might have alerted the infected. But at the moment they only cared about one thing…the radio was working.

"Someone get the mic!" Nick shouted. Bill was already ahead of him, he held the mic in his hand, and spoke.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?"

He waited. Nothing, just static responded to him.

"Hello?" he repeated. "We need some help, if anyone is there, please respond."

Still static was all the radio would give. One could almost feel the hope evaporating. They had fixed the radio, yet they had not thought about the fact that someone might not answer. Bill tried again, determination clear on his face.

"_Hello,"_ he said louder and clearer. "Is anyone there, we need help!"

The static sounded like white noise, numbing them. The men almost felt startled when a soft voice came through the radio amidst the static.

"Hello?"

* * *

"Rochelle!" Francis called on first instinct. She was hard to spot, the hallway was too dark, he could barely make out her frame being dragged backwards by the smoker. He knew he couldn't shoot from here, for fear of hitting her. He followed the woman, gun aimed high for when he did get a clear shot.

Smoke filled the air, going around his face, down his throat. But after all this time, he was used to it, and did not slow down in the slightest.

He approached the two beings; Rochelle squirmed helplessly in its grasp, unable to scream. She clawed at the tongue wrapped around her throat. Francis had to be quick or the smoker would kill her. He aimed carefully, and with one shot, the smoker was dead.

A cloud of smoke filled the hallway where the smoker had once been, resulting in both survivors coughing. Francis waded through the smoke, reaching the woman who was at her knees, gasping for air. He helped her up, and carried her into a nearby room, unsuspecting of the ones inside.

"Are you ok?" Francis asked.

Rochelle did not answer, she merely pointed up ahead, towards a horde of infected aware of the presence of humans. They ran towards them, murder in their gruesome eyes. There were too many of them in this room, they both knew that.

"Wait I got an idea," Francis said. He pulled an object out of one of the compartment on his vest.

Rochelle eyed the object, breath returning to her, she managed, "Francis, wait!"

But he did not; he threw the pipebomb, the beeping echoing through the air. They only had a few seconds now. The beeping increased, as the two survivors rushed out of the room, leaving an explosion behind them.

* * *

Zoey and Ellis landed in the hallway, closing the door behind them, barely entrapping the zombies in the room they had just left. Ellis grinned, which Zoey couldn't help but return. She had to admit, he was charming.

"Whew! That was close huh?"

Zoey just nodded; sweat falling down her face like tears, eyes half closed.

"C'mon you need to sit down," Ellis said, wrapping her arm around her.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft from exhaustion. "All these binding are really weighing me down."

"No worries," was all he said. Somehow, that simple sentence made her feel better. He helped her into a nearby room, it appeared to be a lounge, and sat her down on one of the couches. Zoey's breathing slowed as they sat there, her mind cleared.

"Thanks," she said when she knew her voice was clearer as well.

"No problem."

"No I mean, thanks for everything."

Ellis cocked his head to one side, noticeably stumped. "What did I do?"

"You saved my life."

"Aw well, it was nothing really." He said, hoping the dimness of the room would hide his reddening face.

"No it was….wait a minute…" Zoey wanted to continue, this was the second time she had been interrupted. But the sound of a beeping halted her. A familiar beeping.

"We need to move," she said instead. She stood, hobbling, pulling on Ellis's arm, but it was too late. An explosion burst through the room, blowing up one of the walls, catching it on fire. Fire was crazy and powerful. Once it got started, it was hard to stop.

Zoey and Ellis tried to move to the door, but the fire was quicker; it blocked their only exit, its powerful flames growing, spreading. She looked over at Ellis; he knew it too. They were going to die in this room.


	9. Chapter 9

"Hello?"

The voice was soft, hard to make out through the static. But still clear enough. Still _there_. The hope came flooding back; even though no one had yet said a word, they could feel it was there. Bill knew he had to speak again. They had waited so long for some other source of life, someone to help. He did not want to lose it.

"Hello, my name is Bill. My friends and I are stuck in Mercy Hospital, do you copy?"

The static was loud but all the men were huddled close together, straining their ears, trying to hear something. Finally someone had spoken.

"I….you….at…."

"No, c'mon!" Nick shouted in frustration, patience wearing thin.

"Calm down, Nick. Let me try again." Bill held the mic up, close to his lips and spoke once more.

"I'm sorry, our radio does not work that well, can you please repeat?"

"Maybe we should move it," Louis suggested quietly through the static.

The voice came through the radio again, this time, to their relief, a little clearer.

"We're close to….position. We'll….soon as we can…"

"Did he say what I think he said?" Coach asked.

"Help's coming," Bill said, a smile crossing his face.

"We have to get the others!" Louis said suddenly, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm.

"Yeah where are they?" Nick agreed, picking up his gun, ready to leave.

"Well our best bet would be downstairs since that was where we split ways." Bill reasoned.

"Wait, what about the radio?" Louis pointed out.

"Let's take it, just in case," Bill responded. "Everyone reloaded?" The other men just piled out of the room, not bothering to respond, minds on the more important matter. They were going to get out; they might actually have the chance to lead normal lives again. Louis picked up the radio and followed his comrades out into the flickering hallway.

They ran down it, entering the stairway once again. Louis glanced out the windows as they passed, surprised at the water that hit his face. It was starting to rain; excellent. It would be a little more difficult to get out of here, but his hope was too strong now. Whatever they encountered they would push through.

The air started to thicken as they passed through the second floor, onto the first. Bill in the front started coughing.

"What's all this smoke doing down here?" Nick asked starting to cough himself.

"Smoker?" Louis suggested.

"No, this is too thick," Coach said, dismissing Louis's statement. "This is hovering too. Is there a fire down here?"

"Well only one way to find out. We need to hurry, the others might be in trouble." Bill said, picking up the pace.

The others followed his lead, and opened the door to the first floor. The smoke was thick and stifling. They could barely see, barely breathe, the heat was overwhelming.

"Francis! Rochelle!"

"Zoey!"

"Ellis!"

The men called, or tried to call. The smoke not only made it hard to shout, but slowed their movements. They waded through, trying to make it through the doorway at the other end of the waiting room, followed the same path they're friends had followed earlier and ending up in the same hallway. They coughed heavily, the smoke surrounding them.

They shouted the names of their friends, but barely anything could be seen through the thickness of the smoke. There was no way to tell which direction down the hallway they were going, but there was no time to linger.

"Look, there's the fire!" Couch shouted instantly, pointing towards the end of the hallway, where the flames engulfed the last couple rooms.

"C'mon, we have to look for the others, hurry!" Bill said, covering his mouth. Shouting the names of their friends, they searched the rooms that weren't burning, looking for any sign of a body, listening for any sound of a voice.

"Guys!" A women's voice shouted through the smoke and fire, seeming to come from a different direction. Coach turned around, and through the haze saw the figures of Rochelle and Francis near the beginning of the hallway where they had once entered.

"Thank god!" he shouted, heading towards his friends. "We were looking for you!"

"C'mon!" Rochelle said, leading them in a certain direction.

The men followed their other two friends out of the hallway and into another, running inside a tiny room. The smoke was a little clearer there, it was easier to breathe. They all piled in, embracing the clean air, all relieved that no one was trapped behind the fire. No one, except the two people who were missing. Bill observed this right away, and didn't hesitate to ask,

"Where's Zoey and Ellis?" But even asked he asked this question, he had a feeling they didn't know. Otherwise, they would be with them.

"I don't know," Rochelle said, her face falling, confirming Bill's thoughts. "We've been trying to look for them. But the smoke was too thick, we couldn't see anything."

"Neither could we," Louis added, his voice getting strained from worry. "We tried to search all the rooms, but nothing. We couldn't check the ones blocked by the fire."

"…Do you think they're trapped in one of those rooms?" Rochelle asked slowly, her eyes getting wide.

"We have to do something," Bill said instantly. "They aren't anywhere else."

They formed a plan and left their small security, entering the suffocating hallway once again. Every second the flames were getting higher and more out of control. They prayed Zoey and Ellis were still alive.

* * *

Zoey looked helplessly at Ellis. He was at a loss for words, the disappointment plain on his face. How could it end this way? He did not expect this to happen at all. In the world they were in, full of mutated humans, many of them more powerful and dangerous than he, he was going to die in a fire, one of the world's natural elements. Odd how fire gives life, and yet he was going to die from it.

Instantly the two survivors backed up, trying to stay away from the fire, its licking flames covering not only the door now, but the entire wall. Zoey glanced up looking for a window, or any kind of hole into the outside world. But there was nothing in that room, nothing to help them escape. She could see Ellis searching as well, moving boxes and tables aside, looking for some source to get them out.

She tried to continue but she felt herself growing weaker. The smoke was thick and dense. It made her eyes water, it clogged her throat, entering her system, her lungs, choking her. But still Zoey decided, it was time to say what she had been trying to. It was now or literally never.

"Listen Ellis," she said, gasping. He turned to her, covering his mouth trying to breathe. "I'm sorry!" Despite the smoke she could still see the confusion cross his face.

She coughed, but continued. "I didn't mean to snap…at you….it's just so hard…to have hope in a world like…this." She took many breaks in between her sentence, coughing, trying gather enough air so she could continue. He came closer to her, trying to hear her, she assumed. "I wanted to die….but I don't now…and…I really like you Ellis…and…"

Ellis watched her as she spoke, stunned, yet not as much as he had expected. He heard her words when she had first spoken to him. He saw her face, the clear dislike etched across it when they first met. Yet he didn't fully believe it. There was a small feeling inside of him, possibly the hope that still lived within him, saying 'she's lying.'

And now, here was the proof, plain as day, but at the worst possible time. She was admitting feelings for him; it was truly bittersweet. There was only one thing to do that he could think of. One thing that he really _wanted _to do. His heart hammered at the thought, but hell they were going to die anyway.

Zoey continued, oblivious to the thoughts racing through Ellis's mind. "I was just hoping…that we could be friends….even though I was such a bitch. And…maybe more…"

She didn't get to finish. A soft pair lips on hers stopped her midsentence. He kissed her innocently, almost clumsily, then broke away. Even through the smoke, she could see how red his face was, yet how charming his smile was. She came closer, and this time kissed him, the smoke no longer feeling like a limitation. Their breaths intermingled, giving them the oxygen to continue.

Their mouths moved furiously against one another. The months of fighting had left both of them starved for attention, their bodies hungry. And finally, there was someone they could release it on. Ellis held onto the back of Zoey's neck, his other arm exploring the body within her clothes. Zoey had her arms around Ellis's neck as well, a mixture of bliss and excitement coursing through her. She had a lot of affection for this man, it was all so clear now. It felt so liberating to clear things up with him. If only they could live through this, if only they had more time.

She didn't want to release him, but the smoke became too thick. She broke away from their passionate kiss, coughing, already mourning the loss of his lips. Ellis immediately grabbed her waist and backed her up towards the one remaining wall that was not on fire. They were officially closed in now. It would be over soon.

If Zoey had been alone, she knew she would have cried. But she felt no sadness and no fear as she leant against the wall with Ellis's strong arms wrapped around her. She sent one last look his way, and a smile, knowing that this would be a temporary block, and they would meet up again on the other side. He smiled back, his mind on the same thing, and held her more tightly, as if still trying to protect her.

The air was becoming too thick now; Zoey felt her head spinning, the world going a little blurry. She still felt Ellis, the warm body beside her, but it was fading. It would all be over soon. After all this, having almost died once, and she was going back again. But this time, her savior was going to die with her. And strangely, she wouldn't have it any other way. She closed her eyes, waiting for the moment to come…

But it did not.

At that instant, a loud crash erupted by them, knocking them out of the way. Zoey lay on the floor, trying to move her head in the direction of the crash. But she didn't need to see it; all she needed to feel was the air that suddenly swooped into the room. She took it all in the large gasps; the cold, the moisture from the rain, it was like a breath of new life. She could hear Ellis gasping as well. Someone had saved the two of them, before it was too late.

Feeling strengthened from the air, she moved from her position on the floor, trying to find what made the hole in the wall. But all her watering eyes could see were bright lights. And soon Ellis was beside her, holding her shoulders.

"It's them!" he said, his voice clearer. "They came for us."

Through the lights, Zoey could see a figure jump down from the object, only its shadow was clear, a man. As her eyes adjusted she could see that the object was a truck, its headlights shining brightly on her face.

"Zoey! Ellis!" the man said, Francis as the voice behind it. Zoey could see more figures following him. It was their friends, they had found them, and rammed a truck into the building to save them.

Strong arms lifted her up, and she was grateful. The explosion had knocked her down and her leg stung from the pain of it. She could see Ellis in her peripheral vision, being held up by Coach. And within moments both were brought out into the open air, away from the smoke and the fire, away from what almost would have surely been their deaths. They all huddled by a building nearby the burning hospital. All eight survivors reunited once more.

"How did you find us?" Ellis asked, through coughs, his lungs still adjusting to the fresh air.

Bill kneeled over the two of them, checking them for any damage.

"We ran into Francis and Rochelle," he said. "They checked the whole hall and no sign of you two. We figured you were trapped."

Ellis chuckled. "You figured right!"

"Thank god," Rochelle said, hugging him tightly.

"There was no way to get to you guys," Bill continued. "So we just thought we break on in."

Zoey smiled at her friend. All her friends. She couldn't think of any way she could possibly repay them for their bravery and kindness. At this point, after having been saved again, she felt extremely grateful. Obviously it wasn't her time to die, not yet.

"C'mon guys we have to go," Nick said, his voice urgent. He stood near the side of the building, checking their surroundings. "Crashing into the building startled a lot of infected. We don't wanna get closed in."

"Good thinking," Rochelle said, standing as well.

"We should go out there anyway, in case the others show up," Bill said.

"Who? What's going on?" Zoey asked as Nick helped her to her feet.

"We found other survivors."

"What? How?" Ellis chimed in, standing as well, though unsteadily. Despite the smoke that had blackened his skin, he looked mostly fine, ready for anything.

A gurgling sound followed by a high pitch scream echoed through the air. Nick was right, they had triggered many of the infected out of hiding…and they were coming.

"We'll explain later," Bill said grabbing his gun. He handed a couple pistols to Zoey and Ellis. "Get ready to fight."


	10. Chapter 10

Thick, dark clouds covered the skies, not allowing any possibility of sun to shine through. Heavy rain fell from those clouds, wetting the streets. Eight people scrambled onto these streets, away from the side of the building where they hid. The rain at first appeared to be a limitation from their mission, but they were grateful, for it washed away the dirt and sweat from their faces and bodies. And if need be, it would wash away the grime from the infected.

It was a close call. They narrowly missed the vomit from the boomer that had spotted them. They moved away from the building just in time, the vomit covering the ground rather than their clothes. Coach, bringing up the rear, turned swiftly and shot the boomer dead, the sound of it erupting through the skies, almost replacing the thunder that followed it.

"Where do we go?" Zoey asked, limping in the back next to Coach. She was grateful for the arm of Ellis wrapped around her waist, holding her up. With every passing moment, she grew more thankful that he was there.

"I don't know," Nick said from in front of her. "The radio was breaking up when they responded."

"But it sounded like they said they would pick us up from the hospital," Bill picked up. "Louis, you still got that radio?"

"Yeah," Louis said, running at a good pace ahead as well. The radio did not seem to slow him down in the slightest. Zoey glanced around as their group moved to the middle of the street. While everyone was scanning the outside area for the incoming survivors, Zoey stared at all the infected that were approaching them, which they would have to kill. When their groups had combined, she felt they had a fighting chance. But her eyes widened as they moved, they were literally surrounded, and now she felt as if their group were small and weak against them.

She could see faces, so many faces peering out, some already running towards the smell of the vomit, towards the still running truck in the broken wall, towards them. It was hard to believe that this hospital was quiet over the night, that they were able to get some of rest here. Because that was not the case now; the streets, the sidewalks were covered with infected. And more were hopping down from the walls of the buildings and closing in on the survivors, just as Nick had predicted. With the prospect of hope so close, they didn't want to just run away. They _had_ to fight.

Bill turned to his teammates and Zoey could see the slight worry that lay behind his determined eyes. But his tone displayed no doubts. "Looks like we won't get another chance to contact those people again. There's too many, we have to fight now! If anyone sees any sign of them, get the rest of us!" The cry from the infected echoed through the air followed by the familiar sounds of gunfire, almost drowning out his shouts. "Stay close together!" These were his last words before a crowd of the infected closed in on them all. Flashes of light from their guns lit up the dark skies.

They all huddled in the middle of the street, back to back, trying to follow Bill's orders and stay together. But this proved to be difficult; infected pulled each survivor away from the other, all closing in around each individual.

The hunter's cry sounded once more, its final warning, and in just a blur of moment, the hunter burst through the group, landing on top of Louis. It clawed ferociously at him, hungrily, spraying Louis' blood through the air.

"Louis!" Zoey screamed. She aimed her pistol, hoping to get a clear headshot, but at that moment a sharp pain erupted through her broken leg. She found herself on the ground, with the infected that knocked her over hissing in her face. She had forgotten how fast fights could be. She had to get her senses back into high gear. She moved shooting the infected off of her, but there were more following, no surprise. Her heart hammered as Louis' screams echoed through the air.

Everything seemed to move in a whirlwind. Rochelle rushed over to Louis, battling her way through the crowd of infected. Blood and grime hit her, stained her clothes, her face, as she went. But nothing slowed her down; Louis' screams pushed her forward. At last, she had a clear view, and with one blast from her shotgun, the hunter was off of Louis; its body dropped next to him, now lifeless. Rochelle rushed over to the mangled body that was Louis, almost not hearing the scream from one of her companions.

"Spitter!" Nick shouted, trying to warn the others in time. But there was no time. The spitter was too quick; Francis barely saw the flash of green before he was crippled on the ground, laying in a pool of burning acid. He screamed from the intense pain that fried his skin, inhibited him from moving.

Coach, a few feet away, saw this. He fired his submachine gun at the infected nurse in front of him; her body shuddered violently as the bullets passed through it. Once she dropped dead, Coach rushed over to Francis, almost shocked at how quickly the acid had eaten away at his skin. Francis tried to get up, clutching at the reddened, blistering skin on his arms. Being careful, Coach took the struggling Francis' hand and helped him, trying not to hurt him more than he already was. They had little time to linger, and a sudden crash almost halted his actions, confirmed his worst fears. The ground began rumbling. _It couldn't be…_

"Tank!" Bill shouted, already rushing to the heavily mutated being, Nick on his heels.

Ellis couldn't believe it; it just didn't seem fair. The fight had started only minutes ago, and already three people were on the ground, wounded. Despite all this, the infected kept coming, not giving them any time to just _breathe_. He wanted desperately to do something; to help Zoey up who was struggling from the weight of her cast, to help Rochelle do her best to patch up Louis, or to at least help the others with the incoming tank. But he was trapped. He moved his axe, screaming with rage at the tons of infected that appeared one after the other. He couldn't avert his attention from them, no matter how much he wanted to; because that one look might be his last.

Zoey tried to move, tried to get up from the hard, cracked ground. But she couldn't gather enough energy to pull herself up _and_ fight the dozens of infected that kept coming back. Her broken leg throbbed as she tried to scoot back, her pistol firing madly at her attackers. But the cast was too heavy; she couldn't get to a standing position without help. There were too many….and with one last shot, her pistol clicked uselessly.

_No…._

She clicked it more times, hoping that for some reason, there were still more bullets in there. But she knew there was nothing; she just didn't want to accept it. She could feel them now; they were on top of her. Their scratches, their punches and kicks, it sent pain shooting throughout her body, and couldn't stop her screaming that resulted from it. She moved her hands along the ground, trying to inch herself away from them. Her nails dug into the softening, wet earth as she moved, the dirt stained her clothes.

She considered just laying there, letting them take her. But only for a moment; no longer would she be useless, even if her pistol was. She was angry at their situation, and these beings would be good to take it out on. Balling up her fists, she punched the nearest one, and sent it flying backwards. She knew it wouldn't kill them, but it was the least she could do to keep them at bay.

Louis' breathing was heavy, ragged. He clutched at his badly torn abdomen as blood poured out of him, staining his white shirt and the ground he lay on.

"Hang on sweetie, I got a health kit for ya," Rochelle said, hurriedly taking off the pack. She glanced up every few seconds, shooting the infected that came near, easily.

"What is it?" she asked, suddenly noticing his movements. Louis had his arm outstretched, as if he were reaching for something, causing Rochelle to look in his direction. The radio he had so carefully guarded for so long lay broken on the ground from his fall, pieces strewn about. It looked almost impossible to repair.

She couldn't help thinking, _what now?_

She looked around feeling the hope evaporate as quickly as it came when she heard there were others coming. Zoey was on the ground, Ellis was battling an army of infected, Louis and Francis were badly wounded, and the other three were fighting a large, stubborn tank. And now, there was no way to contact those people again, possibly the only other survivors. It was hopeless, she couldn't help feeling like these were going to be their last few moments. But that didn't mean she had to let Louis die; she saw his eyes closing, his breathing slowing down.

"Stay with me," she urged as she pulled out the gauze.

Bill, Nick, and Coach fired at the tank, using their guns for all they were worth, burning through all their ammo. Yet still, all the effort seemed to do nothing against the tank's thick skin. And with only three people against it, the effort was futile. They knew this, but still they tried; it was either _them_ or _it._ The tank thrashed about wildly, throwing anything that could get, forming cracks in the street with its massive weight.

_Where do they come from?_

The men moved around the tank, trying not to get too close, but just like their bullets, the act did very little. For a large being, the tank moved quickly; it was difficult to predict his actions, let alone avoid them. The tank picked up a nearby rock and threw it; it crashed against a building raining shards of earth on the men. A large piece of earth hit Coach, knocking him hard in the arm. He fell to the ground, covered in dirt wet from the rain.

"Hang on Coach!" Nick shouted, turning around to help his fallen friend. He didn't get to him, for the tank knocked him aside, sending him flying towards a building across the street. With a grunt, he hit the wall hard and fell, landing on his back.

The tank's beady eyes darted back and forth looking for its next target. They landed on Bill, the only one left, and bounded towards him, shaking the earth as it went. The tank, large in comparison to Bill, picked him up with ease and threw him, straight through the air to a destination unknown to his fallen companions.

Rochelle looked up with fear as the tank picked up another rock and held it high above its head, preparing to throw. It was clear that they would be next. Only they didn't have a chance to move. She looked down at Louis, whose eyes were closed. _Looks like this is it…_

All of a sudden, fire erupted on the tank, its blazing body looking brilliant against the sun that peeked through the clouds. The rock dropped to his feet, the tank itself joining it on the ground. The sudden Molotov had finally been the device to kill it. But who had thrown it? Coach crawled out from under the rocks, clutching his arm with an expression of clear surprise. He looked over and spotted Nick in the brush next to a building across the large street, trying to sit up despite the intense pain in his back.

A dark van pulled up beside the fallen tank with heavily masked and padded people pouring out of it before it had even come to a stop. Their guns were already out and firing, some had pipe bombs and did not hesitate to throw them. The weakened survivors could only stare in awe at what was happening. These were normal people; and they were slaughtering the infected, clearing the street easily. The bombs blew up the remaining infected that their guns didn't hit. It felt like a dream, almost like a miracle.

Ellis dropped the worn axe to his feet; he didn't need it anymore; and ran to Zoey, the dead bodies of infected scattered around her. She almost looked part of them, like after all the times of coming back, they had finally killed her. He felt himself let out the breath he was holding when he saw her struggle through the mass, trying to get up. Her face was covered with blood and sweat, similar to his own, but she managed a smile when she saw him and accepted his hand to help her up. She groaned from the pain in her body, as she stood and leaned against Ellis for support.

"Don't worry I got you," he said soothingly.

"Thanks. What's going on?"

"They came." The sun was fully visible now, now setting from the lateness of the day. It illuminated Ellis's gleaming face. "Let's go find the others."

They moved slowly towards the other side of the street, where two of the masked people were assisting with Louis. Rochelle stood nearby, keeping watch. More people helped Coach to his feet, while a few more grabbed Nick and Francis from their various places.

It was amazing how things had calmed down. The streets were clear now, almost quiet compared to the commotion that had occurred minutes ago. And somehow, after all that, they were alive. Or so it seemed. Zoey looked around, counting. There were only seven of them out there, out of the people they could recognize.

"Where's Bill?" she asked, growing concerned.

"I don't know…" Ellis trailed off, but Zoey didn't give him time to speak anyway. She limped ahead of Ellis as quick as she could, scanning the area. All she could see were her six friends and the masked strangers. Approaching the dark van with everyone else, she asked again,

"Where's Bill? I don't see him."

"The tank knocked him somewhere," Coach said, his voice strained from the pain in his arm.

"We have to go look for him!" Zoey said cringing with worry. "Guys, hurry, we have to…"

"Is this man part of your party?" A man asked, interrupting her. Everyone glanced over to see the limp figure of Bill in the man's arms.

Zoey's hand tightened around Ellis's arm, the shock almost stopping her heart. _He couldn't be…_

"I'm sorry," the man continued. "He was already gone when we found him."

Zoey felt her throat tighten; her squirming insides turn to nothing. She felt like she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Bill was strong, if anyone could take a punch it was him. He lead them to safety so many times…Zoey lay against Ellis as hot tears ran down her cheeks, the breath caught in her throat finally released as she sobbed. She dug her face into his chest, not wanting to see the dead body that those men wrapped up in a bag and placed in the van.

Ellis comforted her, stroked her hair as she cried, held her for a few more minutes before seeing the nod of one of the masked men. He knew she needed to grieve. But he also knew they had to get out of here before they were all killed.

"Zoey, it's time to go," he said softly.

She nodded; it was time. Finally they were leaving this hell; there was no reason to stay. She followed her friends who one after the other piled into the van. The last thing she heard was the cry of another incoming attack before she closed the doors from it, and into Ellis's awaiting arms.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing Zoey saw when she woke was the beige color of the roof of her shelter. As her eyes became more focused, she discovered she was in a tent, using a thin sleeping bag as a bed. And as her brain cleared along with her eyes, everything came flooding back in waves. It felt like a very vivid dream, like her perfect world, only this time, it was real. Everything that happened _actually_ happened, and she still could not believe it.

Months of fighting and in just a few short days, she was brought back to life, reunited with her friends, made new ones, lost one, and was saved by a group of numerous other survivors. It seemed unreal…all this time she had thought that there was no hope anymore, that eventually she was going to become a part of this broken world. But just like she had thought she was dead a few days ago, she had been proven wrong again.

She sat up, noticing another sleeping bag laying empty beside her, and wondered where her friends were. She knew they had been here since yesterday, but she could barely remember their arrival. It seemed like just a blur of tears, medicine, and Ellis's hand gripped tightly around hers. With that thought, she glanced down at her now vacant hand, a little disappointed that he was not here now. As if on cue, a bright ray of sunlight entered the dimly lit tent and Ellis's head peered through the opening.

Zoey shielded her eyes against the sun with her hand as Ellis entered, and put it down when he closed it, putting them back in dimness. The tent didn't look like the thickest of materials, but it was obviously good enough to keep the sun at bay.

"Hey," he said pleasantly, coming over to her position and sitting himself beside her.

"Hi," she said. She glanced up at him, and the sight of his smile resulted in a small one from her.

"How are you feeling?" Zoey wasn't sure how to respond to that. Did he mean physically? Or emotionally? Since she had woken she hadn't paid much attention to her body. Her leg was still messed up, but whatever that medicine was, it was powerful because she didn't feel too much pain.

"Getting better, that medicine's working pretty well," she said finally, meeting her eyes with his.

"I meant about Bill," Ellis said softly. With a gentle smile he added, "I know you're pretty tough when it comes to injuries."

Zoey averted her gaze away from him. "It's hard," she sighed. "It's hard to accept. He just went so…quick. I didn't even see it coming."

"No one did," Ellis said, his face sympathetic. "I didn't know him well, but he was a great guy. He pretty much led us here."

Zoey nodded, feeling the tears gather in her eyes again. She moved away from him, trying to hide it, but it didn't work. Instinctively, Ellis placed his arms around her in comfort. They stayed like that for a few minutes, or maybe more. Zoey didn't know. All she knew was she was very glad he was there. Finally she pulled away and dried her face with her sleeve.

Trying to control her voice, she said, "Where is everyone else?"

"The health tents," Ellis replied at once. "I just came back from there. Wanna see them?"

She did. Bill was dead, but the others weren't, and she wanted to see how they were doing. From Ellis's tone, they didn't seem to be in too much pain. Then a thought occurred to her.

"I don't want to wake them up, what time is it?"

Ellis grinned. "A little after one in the afternoon."

Zoey frowned. "What?"

Ellis chuckled at her surprise. "Yeah, you were asleep for a while. Can't blame you, though, it's been a while since any of us had a decent night's sleep." He moved in front of her, and held out his hand. Zoey accepted it, and let him lead her out of the tent and into the daylight. She scrunched up her face once more at the brightness, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

"Here," Ellis said, holding something out for her. As her eyes cleared, she saw it was a pair of crutches.

"Thanks," she said gratefully. She was tired of limping around on her busted leg. She glanced down at her leg, surprised that she didn't notice it sooner. Her bandages were replaced with better ones, as well as the ones around her ribs. All the fighting most likely made her injuries worse; she was glad they would now have a chance to heal. She followed Ellis, moving quicker with the crutches.

"They have health tents?" she asked as they moved. Glancing around she saw tents all over, full of, and surrounded with people. Living, normal people. It almost made her feel like the world was right again. Almost; she knew it never would be.

"Yeah," Ellis responded. "The people that started this camp found some survivors who were physicians. They have been taking care of the people that were wounded from attacks."

"That's great."

"It is, these people are stocked with medicine and bandages, it's amazing they were able to find so much of it!"

Zoey heard him, but she said nothing, inwardly agreeing, but on a different context. She was observing all the people, it still amazed her. She hadn't seen so many people in months, along with so many families. As they passed by the tents, she eyed a mother holding her baby girl, reading her a tattered book as the girl slowly fell asleep in her arms; a father showing his teenage son a basic pistol, and classic fighting moves. Children, so many children were running around and playing with what appeared to be toys found in the rubble. The sight awed her; how did so many people survive?

"This is it!" Ellis said cheerfully, holding open the tent flap so Zoey could get in. After being in the sunlight, the tent appeared dark and once again her eyes had to adjust before she spotted her friends, lying on cots rather than the sleeping bag she woke up on. She noticed this tent was much larger; it contained more people that she could have thought. Louis was the first voice she heard.

"Zoey!"

She followed the voice to the mat in the corner, where Louis lay, with heavy bandages wrapped around his abdomen. But even still, she could see his friendly smile. Next to him, Nick lay and beside him Francis, who was heavily bandaged as well. The burns really damaged him, but his face displayed no pain, he smiled up at Rochelle who was holding an unburned part of his hand and speaking animatedly. She stopped when Louis had spoken and turned her head in the direction of the two new arrivals.

"Hey, Zoey, Ellis," she said cheerfully.

"Hey guys," Coach said, speaking from behind Rochelle. Unlike the other two, he did not need to lie down. His arm was wrapped up in a sling, but he was sitting up, looking quite unharmed.

"Hi," Zoey said, moving through the tent. She decided on the space between Louis and Nick, and carefully lowered herself between the two.

"How are you guys feeling?" she asked, not directing her question at any one person.

"Getting better," Francis responded. "Docs say I should be fine within a couple days."

"That's greats," Zoey smiled at him. "Nick?"

"Broken back, think it might take me more than a couple days."

Zoey nodded in understanding, then looked over at Louis, who had yet to say anything. With some slight difficulty, he repositioned himself so he could face her, and placed his hand on top of hers.

"How are you?" he asked in a hoarse voice. Zoey knew he meant about Bill.

"I miss him," she said, her voice close to a whisper.

"Me too," he brushed her hand gently with his, which made her smile. It was nice to be around someone who truly understood, who had known Bill as well as she did. But it was also nice that Louis was still here. She didn't think she could bear it if both of them had died.

Suddenly noticing that she couldn't hear Ellis's voice, she glanced up and saw that he was no longer in the tent. "Where did Ellis go?"

"Right here," Ellis called, emerging once again into the tent, carrying a plate full of cups.

"What's that?" Zoey asked, eyeing the plate.

"Fresh, clean water," he said, beginning to pass around the cups to everyone. "How often have we had that?" Starting from the other side of the tent, he reached Zoey and Louis last. She gratefully accepted the cup, not realizing how thirsty he was. She drank, the water running cool and smooth down her dry throat. Ellis returned to his original position, glancing around at all his friends. Out of the silence, he spoke.

"I know this is too late since you all already drank but…" he held up his cup. "To Bill." The others didn't hesitate to follow. Zoey smiled at him, at his kindness.

"To Bill," she repeated, and drank once more, somehow, the water tasting better than it had before.

* * *

The fire blazed and crackled, almost dancing in the pit. It was almost hypnotizing; Zoey found she couldn't look away. It was nightfall now, and everyone in the camp was starting fires to cook their food, or to just hang out and enjoy the stars. Zoey was doing the latter, after a day that seemed to fly by. She didn't know how much time she had spent in that health tent, just talking and enjoying the company of her friends…her family. But it wasn't until the early evening that she decided on finding a place to wash up and change. She hadn't realized how much her body desperately needed it; she never felt cleaner and more refreshed. Just the little things that happened that day almost mended some of the wounds on her heart.

Ellis saw the small fire, and the woman who sat beside it, holding her arms. Figuring she was cold, he grabbed a blanket before walking over there. He walked softly but not too soft so as not to startle her; he succeeded, when he approached, she did not seem surprised. He placed the blanket gently around her shoulders, while trying to hide that he was gazing at her appearance. She looked completely normal, yet beautiful.

She had on a fresh change of clothes; they were a little big, but after all it was what the camp provided. Her hair was down, rather than in its usual ponytail, and still a little damp from her shower. But what he couldn't help but notice was her eyes, the fire reflected in them, brightening the green color of them in a brilliant way. Her eyes didn't look sad today; he couldn't help but wonder why. Yesterday she was a wreck over Bill, yet today she was a little quiet, but otherwise calm. He didn't want to push her. Trying to keep things light, he said in his usual friendly tone,

"How ya doing?"

"I'm alright," she responded. She clutched at the blanket around her shoulders. "Thanks," she said, moving her eyes toward him.

"No problem," he said, smiling. When her gaze returned to the fire, his smile faded.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I was just thinking."

"About Bill?"

"Yeah…and some other stuff."

Ellis wanted to question her further, but he decided against it. She would tell him if she wanted to. And to his surprise, she spoke, unaware of her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

"I was checking out the camp today, and I realized something. I miss Bill a lot, and I hate how so many people had died…but so many survived too…more than I thought. It makes things a little better. There are so many families here…it makes me miss my own…but then…it makes me glad that they still have each other."

"It makes me glad too." That was all Ellis could say before she spoke again.

"And...it makes me glad that I have you," she continued, looking up at him. Even through the dim lighting, of the fire he could see the slight reddish tint to her cheeks.

"You have been so great to me; from saving my life, to comforting me about Bill. I know I lost a close friend, but I also gained something better." She placed a soft hand on Ellis's and smiled at him.

"I know it has only been a couple weeks, and….maybe it's just because in this world, anything can happen but…I really care about you, Ellis."

He stayed silent for a moment, amazed not only at her words but at how things had turned out for them. She cared about him more than he thought, and as time progressed he realized _he_ did too. Or maybe he always did. Why else would he go through so much trouble to save one girl? As he looked into her eyes now, silently, almost anxiously waiting for his response, he knew he cared. He placed his hands on her face, bringing them closer to each other.

"I really care about you too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled at his words, and closed the distance between them, meeting her lips with his. Ellis was taken slightly by surprise at the sudden contact, but he didn't mind it. He deepened the kiss, putting more into it, moving his mouth. She responded with equal eagerness; the two finding a good rhythm with each other.

Ellis was drowning; the way she felt, her smooth skin, the scent of her hair. His heart hammered as they kissed, shivers ran down his spine at her touch. Zoey grabbed a fistful of his hair and slipped her tongue into his mouth. He chuckled slightly against her lips at her forcefulness, and followed suit, dancing his tongue with hers. The taste of him, the feel of his body underneath her fingertips…she loved it.

The warmth from the fire, and the realization that they would always be there for each other…it gave them a feeling of sheer bliss and content. It was an absolutely perfect moment, one that neither survivor wanted to end. And they didn't; they kissed into the night, as the bright full moon shone overhead.


	12. Epilogue

**Just wanted to saw thanks so much for the reviews! Its great to get positive feedback for my writing, and I'm glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Anyway, onward with the last chapter! :) -mlove **

* * *

The sun blazed down on Ellis, making a bead of sweat run down his face as he punched an infected out of his way. He reloaded his assault rifle quickly loving the feel of the gun, grateful for the camp that provided them.

His boots splashed through puddles of blood and flesh as he fought, scanning the area for any sign of life, _real_ life that might be on these streets. All the while he kept an eye on the woman a ways away, awed at how well she was at holding her own. Zoey used the AK-47 as if it were an extension of her arm, fighting her way through the horde of infected.

_How did I end up back here?_

It was a question that often floated through his mind, whenever he came face to face with another mutated being, whenever he ended up in a situation near death. And then he would remember an evening, which took place months ago, near the time when they were first rescued. A pair of soft hands had woken him in the middle of the night, and his blurred vision cleared to see Zoey's face, peering down at him.

"Zoey, you okay?" he asked, his mind instantly thinking something was wrong. Was the camp invaded? Were they in trouble?

"Sorry to wake you, but I couldn't keep this in anymore."

"What?" Ellis fully sat up with her now, wondering what time it was. Had she slept at all?

"Ellis…I decided something…I have to go back out there."

"Where?"

"To fight the infected."

Ellis had stared at her in confusion, instantly thinking of reasons to object. They were barely healed, they had just lost someone to the horrors out there; why go back into the hell they had just come out of?

"I have been thinking about it ever since Bill died. If there's something we can do, anything at all to prevent more deaths…I want to do it."

It was when she spoke those words that it occurred to him; she _needed_ to do this. Ellis wanted to have a normal life, but he realized that was never going to happen again. Not in this world. Unless there was a cure, something to make the world right again…it would never be. If anything he would rather spend the remainder of his days fighting alongside the girl he was crazy about.

Zoey waited anxiously over the next few months for her body to heal. She was growing restless, and everyone could see it. She spent many days outside, staring out of the barriers of the camp, as if craving to be out there again. She practiced her physical therapy diligently, and slowly her leg became fully healed as with her ribs. She could move easily once again and Ellis had never seen her happier when the two of them joined the team. He still remembered her face when she picked up a familiar gun.

And now when they fought, things felt different. There wasn't any fear, not anymore. Instead of fighting to stay alive, they were fighting for others, fighting to keep _them_ alive. It was a better feeling; Ellis knew Zoey felt the same.

A blow to the side snapped him back to the present. He swung around swiftly and shot the infected dead, freeing himself. His gaze wandered back to Zoey. She seemed to be on top of her game; killing the infected before they had a chance to strike her, fighting with the skill gained from all the practice. The final one that surrounded her dropped dead, Zoey's final shot put them in a wave of silence.

She brushed a stray hair out of her face as her gaze drifted over to Ellis. Seeing his smile, she returned it and began jogging lightly to him. His smile faded when he saw the infected lurking behind her, saw the tongue that shot right towards her.

"Zoey!" Ellis warned, but it was too late. The smoker's tongue wrapped around her leg, halting her steps, and dragging her backwards. Her body hit the ground; her nails scratched the earth trying to keep herself away from it. But to no avail, it was stronger than her.

"Zoey!" Ellis cried out again aiming his rifle, intending to fire, but the sudden vomit drenched him, covering his gun, his entire body. His vision blurred as the vomit covered his face.

_How did I not hear the gurgle?_

He wiped his face hurriedly trying to clear his vision, but it did very little. When his vision was restored, what he saw was not a clear path in front of him. Dozens of infected surrounded him, attracted to the smell of the boomer's vomit. He put his gun away, feeling his axe would serve him better. Gripping the handle with both hands, he swung killing all the infected within his sight. But the ones behind them appeared, closing him in once again, closing in the path to Zoey. But still he moved, swinging his axe, praying Zoey was okay. There had been too many close calls.

_If anything happened to her… _

The horde seemed never ending, but at last he made his way through, slicing the final infected that blocked him to Zoey. A clear shot opened up through the haze of the smoke and the infected. He had to take it, before his vision became blocked once more. He fired and at once tried to control his sudden coughing. Even the protection he wore didn't keep the smoke from entering his body.

He vaguely say Zoey drop to the ground, and coughing, he made his way to her. Gasping for air, she accepted his hand, and stood. Ellis stared at the ring around her neck concerned, but she didn't seem fazed. As the smoke cleared, she took a deep inhale, and reloaded. Zoey did not hesitate; holding up her gun, she shot the nearby boomer, and went into the mob, showing no fear. She moved through the horde easily, being quick, yet managing to avoid any damage from them.

Ellis noticed he only had to follow through at her heels, protecting her from the ones she missed. But there were very few that she missed, she showed no mercy. Ellis couldn't help feeling impressed by her. He always knew, from when he had first rescued her that she was a fighter. But these days, it was as if she were _stronger._

Maybe it was because of her admiration for Bill, as if she was trying to redeem his death. Maybe it was because of her determination to find the stranded survivors. Or a combination of the two; Ellis wasn't sure.

It seemed as if only moments later, the fight was over, and the final infected that had attacked dropped dead at the hands of Zoey. She dropped her gun, weary from the use, breathing heavily.

"You okay?" Ellis asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah," Zoey said slightly breathlessly.

As he stared into her face, spotted with blood, and close to dripping with sweat, he felt a wave of déjà vu. He had been here before…the woman, the dead bodies…

Zoey glanced up at him, noticing the man staring at her. She felt her heart increase slightly as he looked at her, a small smile was on his face, and his eyes were bright and full of admiration.

"What?" she questioned.

"Nothin just…you're a good fighter." And then he remembered. That dream he had…only now, it was reality. He couldn't stop his face breaking out into a grin, and grabbed her hand. Zoey raised her eyebrows, surprised at the sudden contact, but it returned to the smile she previously wore.

She interlaced her fingers with his, and even through the padding they both wore, they knew their hearts were beating quickly. Ellis chuckled, surprised that after all these months, she could still give him butterflies. He leaned down, not caring that they both were covered in grime and sweat…

The handheld transceiver at his belt sounded, interrupting the moment. He pulled it out, hoping for good news.

"What's up? Find anything?" Zoey stared intently at the radio, waiting.

"Yeah, we think we found someone over here. Sounded like a scream," Coach's voice sounded through the static. "Better get over here guys."

"Be right there."

Replacing the walkie talkie back on his belt, he looked over at Zoey. Even the familiar cry from the infected didn't break her smile. She reloaded her gun.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Not breaking his eyes from hers, he did the same.

"We shall. Lead the way, ma'am!"

She did just that, leading Ellis through the grass to their friends. Any sign of tiredness, any weakness was gone. She felt a new strength surge through her body, giving her the energy she needed to save the stranded person. Whoever was left for dead, she would bring them back. Just like someone had once done for her.


End file.
